Bereft, baffled and bewildered
by mynameislizzie
Summary: Emily and Naomi, three years on. Both now with decent jobs, both still committed and together, Ready to take the ultimate step? Maybe. Trouble is life has a way of throwing curve balls, and Naomi never had very much hand eye coordination, did she? Drama, angst and some Naomily. Go on, you know you want to!
1. Chapter 1

**Its me again. Just when you thought you had got rid of me, another idea popped into my head and I wanted to get the first chapter on the board as soon as I could. You may love it, you may hate it, but bear with me. I'm not BE or JB (of either sex) so I don't fuck with them terminally (cancer ffs?), but our heroines always come through in the end...or do they? What was it E4 said "Sometimes its time to say goodbye"**

**So, if you've read the summary, you'll know this chapter happens after 3 years of relative loved up bliss. Naomi and Emily are renting a flat in Bristol together now, and with both girls working full time, don't see as much of each other as they used to when they were at college. But they love each other, like fierce, you know?**

**As is now usual for me, Naomi will be the main POV, but there will be Emily and other additions later in the story. I hope you don't hate me too much for the first chapter, but here goes...**

Naomi

Fuckedy fuck fuck fuck!. This dress was definitely designed by a man, I know that for sure, a woman would have made it at least physically possible to get over your head without creasing it to fuck.. I said we should have made this event informal. I hate big occasions, and squeezing myself into this tighter than tight cream silk shocker is making me wish I could have another three large drinks before setting off.

I blow a wisp of treacherous hair out of my eyes when it finally drops over my shoulders and reluctantly settles over my body. Fucking formal wear. I hate it. Mind you, looking at myself in the mirror, I have to admit, now I'm poured in, it looks kinda hot on me. I don't have huge boobs, but the ones nature has granted me look quite sexy pushed up in the matching cream satin and lace under wired bra I bought specially for this day. The neckline is low for me,I never go for the cleavage look normally, and the silk clings to my thighs and bum a treat. Emily will growl that husky growl when she sees it, and I would go through an awful lot to hear my little redhead growl, whatever the occasion. Dyeing her hair vivid red last year seems to have woken the inner animal in life partner. It may just be my imagination, but since she did, our sex life has gone up several notches, and believe me, it was never dormant in the first place.

Only last night, we...but I stop myself immediately. This dress is not one that will stand too much sexual tension. I'd better save my daydreams for after the ceremony, when we can literally let our hair loose and get down and dirty. My mouth dries at my own dirty thoughts, so I distract myself by putting on my white gold curb chain and crucifix (Emily's third anniversary present to me, last May) and slim gold eternity bracelet (that was my second anniversary present). I know that Emily won't be able to show off her last two anniversary presents in quite the same way. She's always had her ears pierced in several places, but the tiny white gold bar in her left nipple and the equally petite gold and amethyst stud in her navel are for my eyes only, unless we're on the beach somewhere, and even then I get jealous if someone even looks in their direction. Never quite got over the feeling that someone could take her away from me. Ever since we got together, I have this nagging feeling that she's gonna wake up one morning and realise she's under achieving with me and go out and find a hotter dyke to love. Lucky for me, she doesn't seem to want one.

I sneak a last look at my bum in the mirror before I make for the door of our flat, and promise myself I'll keep off the cream cakes this month, honest, if only the seams stay intact for the next few hours.

Then the door shakes with heavy knocking, and a voice echoes in the corridor outside "Coming in Campbell, ready or not. Your lesbian public await"

Great, now Mrs Butler at number 38 will be screwed to the spy glass, trying to discover how 'gay' my friends can be. She is bad enough if she catches me and Ems stumbling in at stupid o clock in after a night out, giggling and goosing each other as one of us fumbles for the keys. How she's going to feel about a lesbian posse turning up to accompany me to the venue is predictable in the extreme. I can see her pinched homophobic little face in my minds eye now. Lips pursed like they have never been opened and her eyebrows so high, they disappear into her hair. Oh well, fuck her. Today's going to be a good day. I'm determined.

I open the door and Effy stands there beaming at me like some game show compère. I can tell she's been on the juice already, and my patented Campbell overdrive hits the red line immediately.

"Fucks sake Eff, can you at least wait until _after_ the ceremony to get wasted" I scowl, which only makes her laugh more. The tall blonde girl with her laughs too, but even louder, and I hear the click of Mrs Butlers door. We are two seconds away from neighbour from hell territory, so before anyone else can say a word, I'm ushering us all down the corridor and into the lift. As the doors close, I hear a faint "_Well!_" from the end of the hall, and thank God we will be away for the next two weeks at least.

Eff and Jenny (yeah that Jenny, back from Oz and totally enraptured with my best friend) giggle all the way down to the ground floor and I roll my eyes in what I hope is a grown up manner until they finally settle down. The ping of the lift door opening reveals more friends waiting in the lobby. Jamie from accounts, Annabelle from my work group and my mum of course, resplendent in some foliage green thing with added feathers. She looks like an exotic pot plant, but I resist the urge to water her...just.

After lots of air kisses to avoid smudging my carefully applied make up (another thing I usually avoid like the plague, but today _is_ kinda special) we tumble out of the glass doors and into the street. Two cars are waiting. One for me and my mum, the other for my friends. We pick up two more mates on the way, and within 15 minutes, the big cars are pulling up smoothly outside the registry office . As soon as I see the Georgian pillars and stone steps, my heart begins to race. Fuck me Campbell, I breathe silently, you're getting fucking married!

The driver gets out and tips his hat as he opens the door. I smile at him only a little bit shakily for a second, but then see some people on the steps and my nerves increase a hundred fold. Standing right at the top (of course) with a trademark scowl is Katie fucking Fitch. Sister of the bride no less. Or at least one of them. Ems and I had a small disagreement about the exact status of our union last week, neither of us wanting to be the 'groom' but eventually she disarmed me, with her normal mix of sweet words and entirely inappropriate sexual promises. Handcuffs indeed, where do you even buy fur handcuffs? (Don't answer that)

To be honest, I don't know if that wasn't the last time we actually had sex. Normally it was a nightly (OK, sometimes twice nightly) event, even three years into our relationship, but for some reason, as the ceremony got closer, she became more and more distant. I called her out over it two days ago, but she made some excuses about working too hard and wedding nerves. I let it go, because I had been getting home well knackered myself lately, what with the new job, shifts and all the planning to make today special. I wasn't allowed to see Emily's dress, of course, bad luck as my mum kept telling me, but with her metabolism, Emily could eat just about whatever she liked and still stayed trim and sexy. We may be three years older, but she can still melt me with a single look. She is guaranteed to look stunning in whatever she wears today.

I climb the steps, noticing that the Witch Queen of Mordor is absent. Well that was pretty much a certainty, I suppose. Three years I said, didn't I? Well Katie had thawed a fraction towards me, and I actually got on OK with Rob and James, although age hadn't mellowed Emily's little brother one bit. He still spent most occasions having conversations with my tits and 'adjusting' himself, but at least he had stopped calling himself Britney and stealing his sisters clothes. But the Goblin Queen was still implacably opposed to what she saw as our 'unnatural union' and I never really expected her to be here. Rob gave me a hug, which I fended off as much as I could, considering how much time I had spent trying to keep this dress wrinkle free and James stared at my tits and asked them how they were doing. I thought briefly about making a snarky remark, but fuck it, I'm getting married today, I thought, and the sheer improbability of that statement made me light headed.

Emily would be arriving any time now, so I stood with Eff and Jenny, nodding at Katie and hoping she would be able to keep that stony mask on for the duration. I didn't need her approval any more, but I wouldn't have put it past her to shout out something dire during the 'just impediment' section, just to wind me up.

Ten minutes later and we all start to look anxiously down the road for the other wedding car. She had been staying overnight with her friend from the Bristol Evening Post, what was her name? Ellie, I think. I tapped my foot anxiously as we waited. Luckily the weather was good for October, and just a cool breeze told you that summer was over. Rob ran down to the corner of Corn Street to see if there were any traffic hold ups, but he came back seconds later shaking his head. Fuck, I thought, somethings happened. Effy must have seen the look on my face and came over, murmuring the normal platitudes. Brides prerogative, last minute make up issues and the normal bullshit designed to make you stop tapping your foot and calm down, but as the ten minutes turned to 15, I started to really worry. A flunky from the Registrars office came out and had a whispered conversation with Rob. I guess he was used to late brides and over running partners, but he tapped his watch firmly when Rob tried to bargain with him. I could already see strangers congregating on the steps below us, getting ready for the next couple to show. My face must have been a picture, and I wished desperately I hadn't given up smoking last year. Ems had nagged me until I did, citing cancer and other life threatening diseases. The fact that she withheld sex for three whole days had nothing to do with my final decision to quit, of course.

So now she was fucking 'unfashionably' late, and my patience was just about at an end. Where the hell was she? I could see people eyeing each other and looking at their watches. Rob, James and Jenny were making frantic phone calls, but Effy just shrugged when I lifted an eyebrow. "Voice mail" she said quickly "Don't panic Noams, she'll be here"

"I'm gonna fucking kill her when she does arrive" I grated "This could be the shortest marriage on record if she doesn't hurry the fuck up"

There was a cold heavy feeling in my stomach, and I know it was stupid, but my inner demon kept saying over and over "Told you. She _is_ too good for you" I dismissed the vicious little fucker and said to myself " Emily wouldn't do this to me, she just wouldn't"

The fifteen minutes clicked round to twenty and then suddenly in the distance I could see the white bonnet and shiny grill of the hired Mercedes at the end of the road. As I spotted it, so did every one else, and I heard the collective sigh of relief around me. My anger evaporated instantly, and I barely suppressed a sob of joy. Jesus, that was way too fucking stressful a way to start a marriage.

Seconds later, the limo pulled up at the kerb, and the driver jumped out of his door and rushed round to the back doors. He pulled it open and Ellie, or whatever her name was got out. Her face was flushed and she wouldn't meet my eyes, as I stood there waiting for my bride to emerge. In fact, then I noticed the driver avoiding looking at me, and that cold dread was back in my belly.

Finally Ellie looked up at me standing on the steps and I saw tears running down her cheeks. She started to cry, but I wasn't having that, no sir. Dropping my small bouquet on the steps I ran down to the car and opened the heavy door wide, expecting to see Emily sitting there with that shy smile she reserved for big occasions. But it was empty and in one second my whole world collapsed around me.

I could hear ten people talking at once, and even though I couldn't hear sentences, I heard the words 'jilted at the altar' alright. Who even used that phrase any more, I thought stupidly. There is no altar in a register office. Someone was questioning Ellie, but all I could hear her say was, "She's gone, she's just gone"

I think someone tried to put their arms around me. It could have been my mum, but I shrugged them off. She wouldn't, she couldn't have, I thought brokenly, not my Emily. She wouldn't do this to me...not like this, not this way.

But she had, and as the embarrassed crowd started to disperse, Effy and Jenny surrounded me and held me tight as my heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

I don't remember anything clearly about the rest of that day. I recall vaguely being back in our (no, my) flat and having lots of large glasses of single malt whisky put into my cold hands, but the rest of it was a blur. I could hear people phoning other people, and the sound of their ring tones as people called back, but as for the actual conversations, not a thing.

Sometime that evening, I was put to bed, and the stupid cream dress peeled off me. I could hear sobbing, and thought drunkenly that I had never actually heard Effy cry before. Then nothing. Just blackness and the considerate cloak of unconsciousness.

**Well guys, that's chapter one. Is anyone still with me? I have no idea how it feels to be 'left at the altar' But my best guess is that it's totally humiliating and long term life changing. Someone like Naomi, with her inbuilt 'dragons' must suffer even more. Where is Emily, and how could she be so cruel?**

**You'll just have to wait for a day or so, because the answers are coming. But as you're passing, would you just review this one for me? Pretty please? **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

**Thanks so much for the lovely reviews and PM's. I was sad to see 'Orange Wednesdays' go, but it _was_ my first attempt, and I think I need to see if I can do anything with a more dramatic sequel. Oh, and I haven't forgotten 'Written in the Stars' either, its just that with school and holidays, I have been a bit air headed lately, so have had to concentrate on one project at a time. But I _will_ finish it. Just need to do it justice, which probably means a whole weekend of re reading what Nancy did, and trying to get into the plot through her eyes, because it was her story, not mine. Her notes are great, but I do sometimes find myself crying a bit when I think that she should have been well on to her third fic now. **

**Oh well, I have a trip to Bristol today with my parents, and I have managed to persuade them to divert via Albert Road, so I can look at Naomi's house from S4. I have been googling the Skins locations like a crazed stalker and I can't let a trip there go without worshipping at the shrine of Naomily, now can I? Ha ha. The poor people who live there must be used to teenage girls stopping by to get their pics taken outside. **

**OK, on with Bereft... More pain and anguish yet to come I'm afraid...**

Naomi

This is great, _really_ great, I mean. The sun is warm on my back, and I smile as I feel sly fingers untying the back of my bikini top. I know exactly who that is.. and that smile seems permanently lodged on my face nowadays as I brace myself yet again for my girlfriends insatiable desire for morning sex. The sound of the waves on the beach is gentle and persistent, and I lift my arms slightly, so she can pull the material away from under me. I am lying on my arms on this towel and at this time of the morning, I know we have the beach to ourselves. It was her idea to come here, to Sardinia, and for the past week we have been staying out every other night, sleeping on the dunes and making love endlessly. My lower body is a bit sore, to be honest, from all the demands Emily Fitch is putting on it, but its a nice ache, if that's possible. I feel those same fingers slide down my back and tease the skin above my waistband, and I know what's coming next. A husky voice whispers in my ear "roll over babe" and I do.

A soft pair of lips close over mine, and I let my mouth follow her lead. She;s been drinking mango juice, I can taste it, but when her tongue enters my mouth I forget fruit of any kind and concentrate on the delicious sensations she produces when she kisses me like this. My eyes are still closed, but I can feel the sun trying to burn through my eyelids, even though it must be early still. Warm flesh covers my body as she slides on top of me. I try to run my hands over her back as she kisses me, but she stills my hands and places them above my head. Oh right, I smirk, still with my eyes closed, Emily wants to be the dominatrix today. I can live with that. Its hard to believe that the gentle little virgin I deflowered in a tree house back in Bristol has turned into this sexy, adventurous lover, but I suppose that's what love does to you. Strips away your outer shell, and reveals the person underneath. I groan softly as she trails her lips over my neck and flicks out her clever tongue to capture one of my nipples in her mouth. Jesus, she's getting good at this...

She lifts off me for a second, and I feel my bikini bottoms roll down my legs. I lift my hips slightly to help her. I'm wet already, and she has already discovered I orgasm quickly when she takes control like this. My legs are pushed apart, and I feel wet kisses up and down the inside of my thighs, always avoiding the place I want her mouth. I remember when she first went down on me, it was a big thing for both of us, because I had never done that or had it done to me either by another girl. With Emily, it had always been fingers and hot kisses before, but when I saw her pretty face between my legs, her eyes burning like coals as she looked at me down there, I knew this was something we would be doing over and over from now on. That first orgasm from her tongue nearly made me pass out, and by the time I had returned the favour, we were giggling at each other like we had discovered the lost treasure of the Incas. Happy days...

I felt Emily brush my centre with her tongue and my hips rolled up to meet it. She pulled back and my brain screamed in frustration at her teasing.

"Please Em" I groaned "I need to...Oh fucking hell" The last because she had taken pity on me and began to swipe slowly up and down my folds with a flat tongue, pausing at the top to flick my clit with the very tip. One hand came down from over my head and I tried to grab her long hair, but she stopped licking me, which made my body twitch, desperate for her to carry on.

"Play nice now Naomi" she teased "Hands off"

I sighed and did as she said, the result would be well worth the effort. As soon as my hands were back where they started, she began again. I felt her fingers grip my hips as she started to deepen her thrusts inside me with that knowing tongue and this time I surrendered completely.

"Oh Jesus... Emily..." I moaned "Like that baby...just like _that_" I could feel her tongue speed up and knew I was seconds away from coming so hard my teeth would rattle.

"Naomi?" she said, and I gasped, unable to form words "Naomi?" the word span in my brain, what the fuck? "Naomi!" I heard again and opened my eyes to find out what the hell my lover wanted at this particular stage, which was so important that she had stopped licking me to a perfectly good orgasm

"_Naomi_?"

Sunlight burned into my retina's, blinding me for moments, and I squinted, dazed to see Jenny and Effy standing over me. For one crazy second I actually smiled, despite my frustration. What were my two best friends doing here, on a beach in Sardinia, and where the fuck was Emily and her clever tongue? I looked down stupidly, expecting to see my darlings flushed face looking up at me, but all I saw was my own bed, and the remains of my wedding dress folded across the foot of my bed. Crushing reality hit me like a runaway truck and this time it was me that spoke

"Emily?" I said numbly, and saw the quickly masked sadness on both faces. Effy shook her head and spoke softly.

"No Naoms" she said "No Emily, I'm afraid sweetheart. But you really need to get up now, its almost 3 o clock in the afternoon. We let you sleep, hun, but we have to go, and your mums been here since 7 this morning.

"Oh, right" I said, all the events of yesterday rushing in to fill the void that passed for my brain. "Sure...give me five minutes?" I saw them exchange one of those pitying looks you save for bereaved relatives and lost children and my heart sank yet again at the realisation that the dream I had been enjoying was probably as close as I would ever get now to Emily Fitch. As the bedroom door closed behind them I stifled a sob which came up from nowhere. I didn't suppose that was the last one I would be having today. I dragged myself upright and, dropping my totally pointless fancy underwear on the bedroom carpet, walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Ten minutes later, clean, but far from refreshed, I pulled on my bathrobe and ran my fingers through my damp hair as I opened the bedroom door. Time to face my mum.

She was drinking tea, of course. Mums remedy for any disaster. She silently held out another full cup to me, and I took it, drinking from it without tasting anything.

"Nothing I can say will do any good, sweetheart" she said sadly. "I know you're hurting, and there isn't anything anyone can do to make it go away. But it will get better Naomi, I can promise you that"

I know she was only trying to be strong for me, but I spat out a reply before engaging my brain, which was the only part of me that seemed to be functioning like before.

"How mum?..." I snarled "How the **fuck** will things ever get better? Emily's fucking _gone_, and I don't know why she did that to me. I hate her, I _hate_ her."

I saw her head dip and the tips of her ears reddened as she allowed me to let off steam. It wasn't her fault, but she was doing what she had been doing for me since I was old enough to talk, letting me spit out all the anger and frustration I was feeling, before trying to put back together the pieces of my broken heart.

"Its OK to be angry Naomi" she said, tears in her eyes "Be angry with _me_, if it helps. But I'm here, and I'll always be here for you. I will never leave you. I'm your mum"

That was too much for me to bear, as I looked at her sitting there, in her strange hippy clothes and unruly hair and the cup of tea undrunk in her hand. I just broke. I was that small girl again, needing mummy to make the pain go away.

"Oh mum" I sobbed "What am I going to do without her?"

She held me while I cried, rocking me in her arms and whispering soothing words which I couldn't remember afterwards if you paid me. I let it all out, all the broken words and questions I knew there were no answers to.

She didn't try to answer me. Just held me and stroked my back as I shook and shivered. I didn't know there was that much grief in the world. She was gone, and I was alone again. All my inner fears and insecurities come true. It was so fucking painful I felt like my heart would never mend.

An hour in time and a thousand tears later, I finally got to drink a cup of tea. The other cups sat on my coffee table cold and abandoned, but she made me drink a fresh one hot and sweet, and although I can't say it made me feel any better, at least it soothed my aching throat, sore from all the crying.

We avoided the 'E' word after that. As I don't think either of us wanted a repeat of the last hour, but there were things to do. Presents sat unopened on the floor behind the couch and she discretely put them away in the spare room. My dress and the other bits and pieces associated with yesterdays disaster were also put away out of sight. I heard the washing machine start up in the kitchen and realised she had put the bed linen in to wash. Part of me wanted to rush in there and pull them out. They still had that Emily smell, and I wanted to keep a small part of her alive, but it was too late.

My mum phoned the travel agent and cancelled our honeymoon flights and hotel. I went into the toilet while she was doing it. I just couldn't bear to hear Emily's name as she went through the formalities. We would lose our money, but frankly that was the the last thing I needed to think about right now. Finally we sat in my lounge, every trace of yesterdays celebrations gone. It looked so empty and impersonal now.

I still had no idea what had happened. My mum said that Ellie told her Emily didn't even turn up at her place last night. The police had been called, but once they heard that I had been left at the registry office like Miss fucking Haversham, they assumed it was what it looked like. Cold feet. They told her to call back in 24 hours, if they still wanted to report her missing.

Suddenly I realised that all Emily's clothes would be in her wardrobe. When was I going to be able to face looking in there.

"Mum" I said, cupping yet another cup of tea in my hands "Can you do me a favour and check Emily's wardrobe for me. If something has happened to her, everything will still be in there".

She went into 'our' bedroom and was in there for several minutes. I sat on the couch mutely for a while, then got up and took a deep breath. I walked into the room and saw her standing at the open double doors, shaking her head. It was almost empty, just bare hangers and a couple of pairs of old trainers at the bottom. So this was no mystery disappearance. Emily must have come back here while I was out yesterday and cleared her stuff. I stood there for several seconds processing her betrayal all over again. Anger was now replacing the grief, slowly but surely. Not even a 'Sorry I'm fucking you over, and ruining your life note', I thought savagely?

"She left me" I said flatly and my mum turned to look at me with tears again brimming from her blue eyes.

"Yes. She left you Naomi. I'm so very sorry" she said sadly, and for the second time that day I needed my mothers arms to keep me upright.

An hour later, and I was again trying to pull myself back together. My mum had gone, despite the fact that she almost begged me on hands and knees to come home with her. I just couldn't do it. Going back to my old bedroom would almost be worse than facing life here alone without her. So much of our beginnings were in that room, and I knew it would just start me off again. I gritted my teeth and set about riding myself of every trace of Emily Fitch. Photographs, jewellery, souvenirs, the chalk board in the kitchen with that stupid lobster/cheese 'Friends' quote, the rubber plant she had brought back from the market last month, everything. It all went into a series of black plastic bags and I dumped them in the spare room. Tomorrow a trip to the dump, I thought.

I opened a bottle of white wine, then drained it down the sink when I remembered _she_ had bought it at Waitrose this week. I didn't really like white wine anyway, it was her favourite and I wanted it gone, like everything else of hers. I found a bottle of red in the cupboard over the fridge and uncorked it, pouring a healthy glass and swallowing it in gulps. I needed to get pissed tonight. Something to deaden that evil little voice inside my head that kept taunting me about her disappearing act.

The bottle finished, I moved on to brandy. When it got dark, I stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed onto the top of my bed. The room span wildly for a second, then settled down. My last thought before passing out was the one I have been having for the past three years...'Emily'.

_Three hundred miles away. Scotland_

"_Sit down Emily. You're making the place look untidy" The tall dark haired woman spoke kindly enough, but there was steel behind her words and Emily Fitch knew that if she stayed upright, the next words and possibly deeds would be harsher. She sat down reluctantly, staring at her companion defiantly._

"_How long do you think you can keep me here?" she said quietly. Her eyes still stung from the 12 hour crying bout she had been through "People will be looking for me. Naomi will be looking for me...she..." she couldn't finish the sentence. _

"_Hush child" the woman said briskly. "We'll have no more talk of Naomi. Your mother has told me what a terrible influence that...person...has had on you. Here at Ranulph House we pride ourselves in rebalancing your personality. If you behave decently, there's no reason why you can't be back home with your family in say... 3 months?"_

"_I don't want to be back with my family, not in 3 months, not in 3 hours. I want Naomi. She's my fucking girlfriend you stupid cow!" Emily's eyes flashed and her small fists bunched up "We were getting married yesterday" Her eyes filled with fresh tears at the thought of what must be happening now in Bristol. Naomi would be utterly broken, she knew that._

"_That's quite enough of that Miss Fitch" the woman said, her eyes suddenly hard and unyielding "Your mother has booked you in here for a 3 month reprogramming course, and that's what's going to happen. Right, some rules and requirements. Up at 6, breakfast at 7, then your first group session. Lunch at 12 and then an hours accompanied walk in the grounds. A one to one session with your counsellor in the afternoon. Dinner at 4 and some private study time. Lights out at 10. Privileges can be earned, but just as easily taken away. Depends on how quickly you adapt to your new outlook on life"_

_She paused and fixed Emily with a hard stare "And don't be thinking you can get out through a window or some such nonsense. It's been tried before, never successfully. This house dates back to the time of the Bruce and its designed to be safe and secure. Plus of course, we are about 30 miles from the nearest town and I don't think your orienteering skills will be up to negotiating the glens at night, will they?"_

_Emily dropped her head and stifled a sob. She had always been afraid of something like this happening. Back when she was 16, her mother had threatened a boarding school, to 'get that perversion out of your mind' and now it was actually happening. What was she going to do now?_

Back in Bristol, Naomi was sleeping the sleep of the terminally intoxicated. She tossed and turned restlessly, her mind filled with random thoughts and images. Emily's face, the discarded bouquet cartwheeling down the steps, the guests milling about like nervous wildebeest, the empty limo, her mums worried looks. She moaned out loud..."Why, Emily...why?"

**Thats chapter two done then. I hope things are clearer now. You didn't think our Ems would do the dirty on her Naoms did you, not on purpose anyhow. And Jenna Fitch is such an obvious villain! More twists and turns, because unless Emily can get word to Naomi about what actually happened, our favourite bottle blonde is going to put up those walls again, and this time there's no Emily to break them down... Review please? **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

**Well, nice to get back from Bristol (where I incidentally shamelessly got myself photographed in front of 'Naomi's house' in S4... and had a walk down the hill like Cook did when she told him to "deal with it" ha ha. Awesome to be walking the streets where the delicious Lily and Kat did their thing. I could almost hear Dinosaur Jr wailing in the background!**

**Anyway, I am just back, and even before my dirty clothes are in the washing machine, the laptop is out, because I have to get these words down before I forget my thread. Here goes**

**I don't own Skins, otherwise I would purchase Naomi's original (yellow door) house for the nation and turn it into a Naomily themed resort, complete with 3d lake scenes. So there.**

Naomi

It takes me the usual ten seconds to wake up this morning, and the usual five to realise _where_ I am actually regaining consciousness. It's not my bed, and this is not my ceiling I'm contemplating. I try to lift my head from the overstuffed pillow and groan at the throb behind my eyes. I never seem to lose the ability to forget how brain hammering too many drams of single malt are, its a weakness, what can I say?

I attempt a look to the side of the bed and my eyes instantly widen at the sight I'm greeted with. Its a head. A female head, turned away from me but with a familiar tangled mop of brown hair. I swear the word "Emily" is on my lips before I can push it back inside. I jump when the owner of that soft mane of brunette hair stirs. Fuck, I think , who, when, how?

She speaks in a voice still hoarse with sleep, not turning to look at me.

"I can actually _hear_ you perving...You fucking _wish_ Campbell. Try the plainer looking twin"

I sit up in bed like I am Pinnochio with no control of my strings. "Katie?" I say pathetically...

She turns then, and I am blessed with the sight of a half asleep Katie Fitch, bed hair and all, looking at me as if I am something the cat ambushed last night.

"Don't go getting all guilt tripped on me Campbell" she rasps "You _didn't_ have the pleasure of this frankly stunning body, because still have more taste than to let you anywhere _near_ my muff" she ends with a trademark sneer. "So dream on"

I swallow and yesterdays events slowly come back to me. Thank God. Shagging my ex's twin sister really _would_ be a step too far, even on the rebound from a registry office jilting...

We both sit up then, and eye each other with varying degrees of mistrust. Mine is mostly relief, to be honest. For a sickening moment there, I thought I had taken my revenge on my runaway lover by shagging her unlikeable twin, but it seemed not. The events of the past 24 hours slowly come back to me.

Like I said, first thing in the morning, my memory isn't what it is later on, and it still takes me another minute to piece together what the fuck made me end up in the sack with the evil twin.

24 hours ago

At 8 am yesterday morning, I was waking from yet another alcohol induced sleep in my flat and groaning weakly into the pillow. It had been a week since Emily disappeared, and I was no nearer finding out what really happened. Coward that I am, I spent all the day after my conversation with my mum putting back all the little things I had stripped out of there which reminded me of Emily. Her pictures were back on the wall and her few remaining clothes back in her wardrobe. Why? _Something_ was nagging me that things weren't quite a cut and dried as my little green monster had tormented me with at first. A few things had happened to shake me out of my self obsessed grieving. First, I had had a worried call from Rob the day after the aborted wedding. He hadn't heard anything from Emily either, and neither had Katie, which wasn't normal, even when she had been estranged from her family in the early days. Then I got a puzzled call from the Post. Her editor had just opened a letter from her, asking for an extended sabbatical from work, and she hadn't given him any notice that this was going to happen. She, like me, had had a fortnight booked off for out honeymoon, but apparently this typed letter without a signature just said she was going to do some travelling, and that she would understand if he couldn't keep her job open. He was apologetic, but explained that it wasn't possible for him to even give her extended leave, so if she wasn't back on the 12th as promised, her junior reporter position would be advertised.

I told him I understood,but that that wasn't my prime concern at the moment, and he asked me to keep him up to speed on events. Right, like I had any fucking idea what was going on?

Just as I steeled myself to get vertical and find the fucking Paracetamol I had been using as my morning support, the door buzzer went. I groaned again, the last thing I actually wanted now was visitors. I could block out reality with alcohol and some of Effys magical skunk at nights, but I wasn't up to dealing with more tea and sympathy first thing in the morning. My life still had a huge Emily shaped hole in it, and every day I seemed to have to deal with her desertion all over again. I had no answers, and I vacillated between despair and anger, depending on how much deadening the drug/alcohol mixture had at the time. But I was trapped here, and I knew I would have to answer the door eventually, especially as whoever the fuck it was, was now leaning on the buzzer continuously. My head span as I swung my legs onto the floor and groped for a robe.

I pressed the door button without asking who it was. It wasn't going to be the one person I really wanted it to be, and I expected to see either my dippy mother or Eff standing in the open doorway when I got back to the hall with a glass of water in one hand and two extra strength painkillers in the other.

""Fucks sake Campbell" I heard "Have you _heard_ of a shower?"

Jesus, I thought, my day is already complete. Katie fucking Fitch, here to enjoy the freak show.

"Not in the mood Katie" I said sullenly "Close the fucking door on your way out"

"Just go away and enjoy your victory, huh?"

I turned away from the entrance, expecting a flurry of insults, followed by the door banging shut again, but all I did hear was the gentle click of it being closed, from the inside, as it turned out. Katie stood there, without the trademark sneer on her face and I think that was about as surprised as I get actually.

"What do you want, Katie?" I said "Its been a rough few days, you know, what with being stood up at the church, as it were, and finding out I didn't actually know the person I was planning to spend the rest of my fucking _life_ with at all!"

She just stared back at me, blank faced, and this time I let my temper overcome the industrial strength hangover which was making my eyelids throb.

"If you've come for revenge, feel fucking free!" I exploded "Got all your Christmases at once Katiekins? Emily free of my corrupting influence, and total public humiliation for yours truly at the same time...you must have wished on a shed load of four leafed clovers for _that_ to happen, don't you think?"

I ended with a small sob, which kind of negated the fuck off attitude I was trying to present.

She regarded me seriously for another second or two,and I wondered if I still had that softball bat in the hall cupboard. Being convicted of murder and spending the next decade in prison seemed a small price to pay for ridding myself of my tormentor.

"Can we sit down somewhere?" was the answer I got, which completely threw me.

"W..what?" I said stupidly

"You know, find soft surface about knee height and fold legs, so that arse can park itself...it's catching on, you know?" She said snarkily, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief, the parallel universe I had been inhabiting for the past two minutes seemed to have faded.

I found myself walking into the lounge and clearing the sofa of last nights debris. I saw Katie smirk as she saw the empty bottles of vodka and the full ashtray on the coffee table.

"Nice to see you're dealing with this like an adult, eating healthily and treating your body like a temple" she sneered, and I almost got up again in search of that bat. But she parked her perfectly toned arse (and no, I wasn't looking...well not much anyway) on the very edge of the couch, like she could catch misery like the flu.

"Listen Campbell" she started, as soon as we were facing each other warily from each end of the seat. "I'm worried, OK?"

"Worried about me?" I said, sarcastically "About three years too late for that, don't you think?"

"Don't flatter yourself" she grimaced "Worried about my fucking sister, not your sorry arse. You seem to be handling the spiral of despair quite nicely on your own"

"Thanks for the concern Katiekins" I grated "Why would you worry about Emily? She can obviously take care of herself. Seemed to handle the whole desertion and abandonment thing like a _pro_ actually"

I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice, but she only blinked once and carried on.

"Stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself and listen for once in your sad and miserable dyke life" she said, and it was my turn to blink. My mum and Effy had spent the last week treading on eggshells around me, and it was a bit of a shock to get some of Katies tough love. Mind you, I couldn't just let _that_ one slide, could I?

"Dyke?" I smiled without humour "Oh, by the way, Jenny sends her love"

I got the satisfaction of seeing a tiny ripple of unease cross her exquisitely made up face before she got herself back on track.

"Fuck off Campbell" she sneered "This is about your dysfunctional love life, not my dim and distant past"

I let it slide. After all, its not like I have much to crow about nowadays, is it?

"I'm worried about Emily for two reasons. Firstly, and I have no idea why this is even possible in a sane world. She fucking _loves_ you, although looking at you now, I think she is in serious need of a Labrador to help her with finding her way about. So why she went walkabout on the day she had been prattling on to me about like a lovesick fawn about for weeks is totally out of character for my sister. Second, she hasn't been in touch with like, _anyone,_ for over a week now. Not friends, not family and not work. I've checked. And before you say anything, just remember I knew her for 16 years before you ever got your rainbow painted claws into her. I fucking _know_ her, OK?"

I nodded. That much at least was true.

She carried on.

"The other thing is, my mum has been acting weird lately. And that's even weirder than usual you understand? My mum exists in a world consisting entirely of black and whites. She lives her life just _knowing_ what tomorrow is going to be like. She doesn't like surprises or mysteries, OK? But this past week, she has been taking secret calls in the middle of the night, hiding letters and basically acting like she's Mrs Marple, or something. Something is up, and I need to know if its got anything to do with Emily's disappearing act. My sister has dropped off the edge of the world, and I have no clue where she is or what I can do to find her"

I swallowed thickly, taking the opportunity to take the painkillers and a slug of cold water before answering her.

"So you decided to visit her dumped girlfriend to find out. Is that right?" I snarled "What makes you think I have any fucking idea what was going through her mind Katie? For your information, last weeks event at the registry office wasn't an episode of Hollyoaks. We didn't say "cut" at the end and go back to our normal happy lives. I got shafted big time, and I have no idea, any more than you apparently do, why my girlfriend decided to ruin my life. Sorry, can't help. Try another one?"

Katie looked at me for another maddening few seconds before digging in her upmarket clutch bag and bringing out a small piece of folded paper.

"Does _this_ mean anything to you?" she said simply and handed it over "I found it in the bin bag which was just about to be collected. There were a lot of other bits of paper ripped and torn in there, but I wasn't about to go digging in the slimy rubbish with _these_ nails" she held up a hand perfectly and expensively manicured. Katie Fitch, I thought...never change.

I unfolded it carefully. On it were two things. An initial 'E' and a row of numbers. PH26 3HY. I thought about it for a few seconds, Car registration, no... Postcode? I jumped up and opened my laptop, which was of course a battery free zone. I hadn't looked at it since last week, too many happy memories stored on that hard drive. But I finally located the charger while Katie fussed about in the kitchen, making coffee, because as she said "Someone needs to get their arse into gear and caffeine is a definite requirement today for your sorry lesbian arse" Charming.

Once the thing was plugged in and booted up we waited impatiently for it to connect to my broadband. Fucking computers. Finally the frankly stupid tiles of Windows 8 appeared and I logged on to my browser. I tapped in the postcode on the Royal Mail site and it came up with an address. A fucking golf club, I thought, what the fuck?

"My mum hates golf" Katie murmured, "and its in fucking _Scotland_ for Christ's sake"

I know it was a stupid question, but I had to ask it.

"Does your mum have any relatives up there" I said

"No" Katie said forcefully. "Look where that is, it's in the fucking wilderness, miles from any civilization. Her family come from Edinburgh, right the other side of Scotland. They live in a 3 bed semi in Corstorphine. This place is miles from there. Fucking miles.

We looked at each other, neither of us having a clue what this all meant.

"Have you even tried talking to your mum about this?" I said

"No" she said quickly, "and I suggest we do a bit more research before I do. Call me psychic, but something tells me that the E stands for my saddo sister, and my mum knows a hell of a lot more about her disappearance than she's saying. I thought she was in a fucking good mood recently. She's even stopped calling you "that pervert"

"Oh, that's charming" I said. "Progress indeed".

"How do you feel about a short holiday in Scotland?" were her next words, and I almost laughed out loud. Fucking hell, this was getting more Alice in Wonderland by the minute. First the love of my life deserts me, then her implacably hostile sister offers to go on a sightseeing tour with me. Curiouser and...

"I'm gonna go home, because she'll be at work now, and have a dig through her private stuff. She doesn't know I know about that box in the hall cupboard. If there are any more clues. That's where they'll be. In the meantime, get your grubby arse into the shower, dress in something vaguely fashionable, if that's possible, and pack for a couple of days. My car has just been serviced, so it should be fine for a long drive" she winked at me extravagantly, and I almost cracked a smile, something I thought I might never do again.

Two hours later, she was back, grinning as I opened the apartment door. She had another bit of paper in her hand, this time A4 and headed with an official crest. Ranulph House, it said as I read it upside down. She turned it over and I scanned down it quickly. Emily's name jumped off the page at me first. Her age was wrong at 17, because I knew she was 21 last June, but I ignored that. 'Delighted to confirm... and then I got the kick in my stomach as I read the last paragraph 'Reorientation... and conversion therapy' I almost lost the contents of my stomach at that line. Her fucking mother had locked her away in a place where they were going to try to brainwash the gayness out of her.

I looked up at Katie, and her smile had vanished

Right" she said in that don't fuck with me way she had "We need to go now. Who knows what sort of shit they will be pulling to try to change her fucking personality"

I couldn't resist a dig at Katie's indignation at someone trying to persuade her sister she _wasn't_ gay.

"I would have thought this is what you wanted for her Katie" I said quietly "Emily coming back _not_ gay any more?"

She had the grace to blush at that, and I marked that one down as a rare victory.

"OK Campbell" she gritted her teeth "I've pretty much given up on that subject. Fuck knows why, but she's crazy about you. Time to move on, yeah?"

I nodded and grabbed my overnight bag from the hall stand. "Lets go then I said, more positively than I felt. "Lets go and get her"

Only one small cloud on the horizon of course. Neither of us had a clue how far it actually was to Morayshire, but it turned out to be over 500 miles. We got to the borders in 7 hours, but neither of us were up for another 2 hours on the road, The weather was fucking awful, driving rain and loads of spray, so very reluctantly, we decided to find a guest house.

So this is where we ended up. The only fucking guest house within 10 miles of where we had stopped, and it only had _one_ room, a fucking double. I don't know who was more upset about that. Me having to share a bed with my arch enemy, or Katie having to convince herself that sharing a night with an out and out lesbian was the only option available. A hot, hearty, if a bit stodgy meal in the small dining room downstairs, and finding a complimentary bottle of single malt on the occasional table in the room sealed the deal. We undressed back to back, like two maiden aunts, and slid into bed, trying to keep as much distance between us possible in one small double bed. Sitting up together, covers drawn up to our chins to prevent what Katie delightfully called 'your fucking porno fantasies, Campbell' we drank a few drams, just to keep the cold out, you understand.

I couldn't resist some teasing, even though Emily was constantly in the back of my mind every minute.

"If you find it impossible to resist me in the night Katie, at least have the grace to wake me up before you take advantage"

She growled at me warningly "Just keep your sick lezzer fantasies to yourself Campbell. And your fucking hands too"

I laughed drunkenly at her horrified expression. And that's the second time I had outright laughed since she had turned up on my doorstep

"Don't fight it Fitch" I giggled "It isn't just the boys who dream about twin things, I quite fancy getting the complete set"

"Fuck off and get some sleep" was the short reply, and replacing her glass on the bedside table, she turned away from me and pulled the quilt tight up under her chin, burying her head in the plump pillows.

I sighed in mock disappointment and did the same, facing away from her. Despite my lighter mood, I still didn't have the right Fitch in my bed, and it still hurt...a lot. Tomorrow?...I thought dreamily before I passed out.

**OK, next chapter is entirely in Emily's POV and will demonstrate that you can't change everything...**

**Review, you know it makes me roll over and put all four paws in the air!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**

**OK guys, thanks so much for the lovely feedback and reviews. I suppose I should sort a couple of things out just to make matters clear. First, Scotland isn't a separate country administratively just yet, although that could happen next year. They have their own Parliament and stuff, but other than a sign on the road, you don't have any border controls (so far!) So Jenna can't be done for the crime of abduction across national borders. But it is still a crime to take anyone, especially someone who is over 21, somewhere they don't want to go... and keep them there against their will, but remember the letter Katie stole? Clues there people! **

**I have had to play fast and loose with a couple of things or else the story would grind to a halt as I tried to explain the facts surrounding every plot twist. Bear with me, it will all become clear in the end! Promise!**

**Anyway, this is an AU story, and I'm enjoying the hell out of writing it. I hope you can suspend reality for a while and come with me on the journey. This chapter is virtually all Emily, so for those who crave a bit of chocolate eyed beauty, this is for you. But things are about to get a whole lot worse before they get better. Remember why she's been trapped here? Yep, sexual reorientation, right? As if that could work...or could it?**

Emily

I swear if I hear the words '_gay_ and _unnatural_' in one sentence again today I will scream like a toddler being deprived of her ice cream on a hot day. I have been here a week now and the 'processing' has now really started in earnest. First it was early starts, showers carefully separated by opaque screens so I couldn't get 'corrupted' by staring at another girls tits. Then the daily group counselling sessions. Lots of glossy literature being recited from about the Bible, and how 'perversions' like homosexuality are expressly forbidden in there, over and over again. OK, so a thousand year old book written by bearded men in dresses, about another guy who died a thousand years before _that_ is obviously a hot guide to everyday living in the 21st century. Then it was like the worst kind of AA meeting. You know, stand up, give everyone your name (and don't, whatever you do stare at that girl opposite with the incredible tits) and come out to the group on your sexuality. "I'm Emily, and I'm gay" I said, smiling grimly at them all "And just for the record, I fucking _love_ tits and fanny" I did hear one stifled giggle, but the rest just stared at their feet like I had just cursed in church.

I got a demerit mark for that, which basically meant while the others are outside in the sunshine, on their supervised walk around the walled grounds that afternoon, I was in my room (single occupancy of course, we don't want any 'hanky panky' as my lovely counsellor called it) watching them walk in silence, and desperately searching the horizon for any kind of landmark I could spot which would give me a clue where we were. I don't remember much about the journey, I was still dopey from whatever my mother and her friend gave me to get me into the car the night before my marriage. I suspect the Shiraz, My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I tried to block out _that_ train of thought. I didn't want to open that particular door too wide. On the other side of it, the winds of madness blow. Naomi was constantly in my thoughts, night and day, but even thinking about the agony she must be going through right now, not knowing why I had stood her up on the happiest day of her life, made my chest tighten and tears begin to flow freely. I had shed a thousand tears over her since I got here, and the practical side of my brain was nagging at me to stop fucking about being tearfully morbid, and figure out a way of getting myself out of here. One thing is for certain, my fucking mother has gone too far this time. When I do get out of here, I am going straight to the police and get her sorry arse locked up for a good long time, I promised myself. Long enough for me and Noams to get _really_ married, have a long and sex filled honeymoon. I will send her a postcard, perhaps with a picture of us snogging on the front and "glad you're not here", signed by 'the muff munchers'. That will set the tongues wagging in whichever grotty prison they throw her in.

I sighed and threw my very own personal copy of the ' Ranulph House Normiantation Manual' (think normal and orientation, fucking lame, I know) back on the floor where it belongs. It's kinda funny, don't you think, reading an instruction book on how not to be gay? This place is split into two wings, male and female. Its a really old house/castle with a huge fuck off wall round the sides. They must have been really worried about the rampaging English when they built this. On 'our' side, there are about ten girls, all under 20 by the looks of them, They range from about 14, to my age, but no matter how many times I tell the staff, they still insisted on introducing me to the group as _Emily F_, aged _17_. It took me a couple of days to realise, dumb fuck that I am, that my mother has lied about my age to get me accepted here. At 21, I am legally a free woman, and even this bunch of religious fanatics would probably baulk at holding onto someone who could get them locked up for false imprisonment.

But the lie persists, and I have all but given up parroting my initial response to it.

By the end of the week, I was going along with the cheesy group sessions, and enduring, with a tiny bit of patience, the frankly pathetic attempts of my 'personal guide' to indoctrinate me into the ways of the cock. I tried at first to be confrontational.

"Can I just say I _hate_ cock, stiff, floppy or downright ugly" I said, watching the woman's eyes widen at my tone. "Never tried it, never want to. Me, I love _fanny_, you know? I like women, I like their rosy lips, their hard nipples...the way they moan when I go down on them (_that's a fucking laugh of course, there's only one fanny I have ever gone down on, or ever want to, but I'd like to think I've got pretty good at_ _it!_) the way my lover fingers me senseless in the morning, whilst whispering filth in my ear. The dressing up in uniforms, the strap ons, the vibrators...can't get enough of fucking her, you see"

She stared at me, like I had insulted the Pope for a second or two , then set her mouth grimly and replied.

"You won't shock me, Emily. I've heard it all before. You just need to accept the fact that its _unnatural_ to want to be in a relationship with a woman. You just need to give heterosexuality a chance. You may find that you like it after all, and then you won't waste your life in the pursuit of this..._perversion_ of love"

"If what _I_ have is a perversion" I spat "What the fuck is **this** madhouse then? Trying to convince people that what they _are_ is wrong, and brainwashing them into a sexuality they obviously don't want is just... twisted. Don't you think it would have been so much easier for me to go along with my crazy parent and pretend I am straight? I would have been the apple of her eye again, the darling 'normal' twin who's going to have a big white wedding and the sunshine and apple pie marriage my mother always dreamed of. But I just _can't_. I'm Emily, and I'm _gay_, OK?"

I stopped then, because I wasn't getting anywhere. Of course not. This sort of impassioned argument was probably evidence of some kind of classic denial response to her. Something to be worked through, and eventually over. She was looking at me with those social worker eyes. Kind and sympathetic on the face of it, but calculating and dismissive in reality. I slumped into my seat and contemplated my shoes. No wonder the group sessions were so empty of conversation. The others must have been here longer, and had just about given up on themselves.

So I sort of went along with what they were trying to do over the next few days. I sat there like a good girl and said what I had to, to appear compliant and accepting. I don't think I fooled them for a second, and I got the feeling I was being watched with a specially keen eye by my guards. Because that's what I considered them to be. Guards. Not social workers, not misguided fanatics, but prison guards. I might appear to be the quiet twin and easy to manipulate, but there was enough of my fiery sister inside to prevent me giving in to any dipshit psychology overnight. I was going to sweat it out. They had to let me go after 3 months, because that's what my notes said. I got pretty good at reading upside down after a few one to one sessions with the middle aged woman who was my 'personal guide'. Whether Naomi would be there waiting for me after all that time, I seriously doubted. After her initial despair and hurt, I knew those defensive walls would come up and she would probably embark on a drink and drug fuelled campaign to wash me out of her life. I had a few tearful nights imagining what that campaign would consist of. I knew my girlfriend was attractive, but dressed to kill and made up sexily for a night out, she was frankly stunning. It wouldn't take much for her to attract interest from other women. We had been out enough times when some skank had ignored the fact that we were obviously a couple and came on to her. I had to time my toilet breaks to coincide with some up tempo sounds, because if there was anything vaguely romantic on the turntable, she would be like a magnet for the single and hopeful. I'm not saying I was immune to approaches from randoms, but I think the steely look in Naomi's eyes was way more effective than mine when she flashed a 'fuck off, she's mine' attempts. I rarely got past the "not interested, I'm with someone" stage.

In any case, that was all academic now. I wasn't about to respond to any lesbian come ons in here, even if I was inclined that way. We were watched like condemned prisoners, each member of staff seemingly targeted on how many potential love affairs they could extinguish at birth. I know one of the older girls, Sally, I think her name was, made a bit of a half hearted play for Jackie, a skinny redhead with a shy smile. They got to the kissing stage, I think, before they got discovered and suddenly they were moved to the isolation section, down the hall. I guess they either got more intensive 'treatment' or just kicked out as incorrigible. I idly thought about deliberately getting caught with my hands down the knickers of the girl with the huge tits on my group sessions, just to find out. But I thought better of it in about a millisecond. Apart from whatever horrors awaited in Isolation, I couldn't face the idea of swapping spit with anyone other than the love of my life, so it was never really a goer.

There was one chink of light in my dark and lonely world. And it was a bit surprising, given my avowed sexual identity. There was this guy who worked in the kitchens. Freddie, his mane was. Tall and dark skinned, a bit Italian looking, he had an easy smile and went out of his way to be casually friendly with me. Like I said, we were watched like hawks when it came to girl/girl relationships, however light-hearted. But the staff were (obviously) much more tolerant of conversations and stuff between the admittedly few males around and women. IT started with just a grin as he passed me in the corridors, and I initially shrugged off his good humour as nothing more than a weak attempt to get into my pants. He wouldn't have been the first boy to have assumed he had the cure for my 'affliction' in his Calvin Klein's. IT had never worked up to now, and I wasn't about to let it start.

But after a dew days, he grew on me a bit. He spoke to my face, not my tits, and just kept it light and friendly. After a while it became pleasant to speak to another human being without suspecting their motives. The chats became a little deeper than hello, goodbye, and although I was never going to share any secrets with him, it was pleasant enough to share a few moments in the corridor with a 'friend'.

Then it was the weekend, the first I had spent there, and I was wondering, without anticipation, what this would be like in here. No counselling sessions, and no one to ones. We had softball in the morning, which allowed me to work off some aggression, imagining my mum was the ball. Lunch was later, and I was allowed to go into the library to select three books to get me through. This was something I could enjoy at last. I have always been a reader, even though I would constantly be interrupted at home by Katie telling me to "get my head out of that fucking book loser", and other such enlightened stuff. Obviously there wasn't any Jeanette Winterson or Sarah Waters, of course. Nothing I could snuggle down with and enjoy some healthy self exploration. Just the usual Mills & Boon type stuff, full of heaving bosoms and dark mysterious strangers. **NOT** my cup of tea. Still, I did manage to get a couple of so so contemporary novels and an old road atlas. That at least looked well thumbed, so I guess that it wasn't just me who was suddenly interested in geography. IT would have helped if I had even known what the nearest town was, but there was at least a golf club nearby, which had been circled heavily in black pen. I hadn't seen any road signs on the way here, it was dark and raining, so I hoped with all my heart that whoever had circled that location knew a bit more about navigation than me. It could always have been an elaborate plot, of course, to throw any prospective escapee off the trail, but my admittedly short horizon gazing of the past few days, had shown me what looked very much like a golf course in the far distance. The rest of the view consisted mainly of conifers and open scrub land, dotted with heather. It mostly rained here anyway, so I hadn't yet had a chance to see further than a mile or so. What I had seen wasn't encouraging. Acre upon acre of windswept open land and trees, no sign of anything like civilization. I guess that's the one thing I could believe my warders on, we were miles from any hope of help. Basically, I'm fucked, I thought, bitterly.

Next morning, after a boring night trying to get into one of the novels, I had breakfast with the others, and we were allowed to sit in the grounds, as just for a change it wasn't pissing down. After a few moments of introspective studying my toes, I took the chance to walk round the block. I knew that there was an inner wall separating us from the other wings and smiled wryly to myself as I considered its imposing 15 feet of dingy brickwork. What the fuck are they protecting us from, I thought. Gay girls this side, gay guys the other. We weren't about to start comparing techniques, were we? Fuckwits, my brain said for the hundredth time since I got here.

Just then a side door opened in the building and Freddie came out with a bin of rubbish in his hands. He was wearing a white apron and a silly little matching chef hat that made his floppy hair look even more dorky than usual. He flashed me his trademark grin, and I smiled back. Someone neutral to talk to wasn't the least pleasant thing I had planned for the day.

"Hi Emily" he said, and put the bin on the floor, checking behind him to see the door was closed. I heard that his boss fancied himself as a bit of a Gordon Ramsey, so he was being cautious, I liked that.

"Hi Freddie" I said "Working all weekend then?" Bit of a cheesy line, but over a week of being cooped up in here was impairing my already limited small talk ability.

"Yeah" he said, brushing a lank lock from in front of his eyes. "You girls still have to eat, and keeping your strength up is part of the offer" He had the grace to look a bit embarrassed at that choice of words, but I let it slide. I needed information, and he could be very helpful if I let him think I was interested in him.

"No problem" I said and grinned at him "Won't be here forever, will I?"

"You could stay as long as you like, I wouldn't mind" he said and blushed a bit as he scuffed his feet on the ground. Jesus, he looked about 14 then.

"Cheeky" I said and added "Only 2 months and 3 weeks to go then"

I saw something cross his face and didn't like it one bit. I couldn't leave it, so I spoke quickly, in case we were interrupted.

"It _is_ 3 months, isn't it Freddie? Like that's the maximum time they can keep you here, right?"

He looked at his feet again

"Freddie?" I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. Jesus, I had been banking on the three months as being the absolute maximum I would have to endure this. What the fuck was happening here?

"Err.. normally" he said, not meeting my eyes "But sometimes, if your patron (that would be my fucking mother then) isn't happy you're cured, and she has the money, they will carry on treating you. There was this one girl..." he trailed off

"Go on" I said through gritted teeth. "I want it all, Freddie"

"She was here 9 months, before..." again that pause

"Before what?" I said quietly

"Before she did something... to herself" he said sadly

"What?" I said, knowing the answer, but dreading hearing it.

"She waited until the weekend, like now" he said, looking around himself "and then she climbed up there, up the drainpipe and onto the roof"

I looked up at the dizzying height of the house. The black cast iron drainpipe was old and rusty above, but now there was a more modern grey replacement pipe for the first twenty feet. On it was a sign saying in big capital letters 'Anti climb paint'

"And threw herself off the roof" I finished for him helpfully. He nodded mutely and my fucking heart dropped another few notches. Panic began to bubble up in my throat and I almost screamed at this new information. I took a couple of seconds to calm myself before trying to speak again to the obviously uncomfortable Freddie

"Look Freddie" I said, trying to hold his eyes with mine. They were a similar soft colour to mine, and I hoped against hope that he wouldn't just go blabbing what I was about to say to his boss, or worse. Kindred spirits and all that?

"I need your help. _Will _you help me?" I put on my best pleading look.

"Depends" he said "what do you want from me?"

"First, I need to know where I actually am" I said "Like where on the map. I have a sister who doesn't know where I am, and she'll be worried sick about me"

He shook his head, and I tried again. He had to help me, there wasn't anyone else.

"Freddie" I said softly, and he looked up from the ground and shrugged his shoulders in that way Italians have when they don't have an answer to your question..

"If you _don't_ help me. I will be like that girl up there" I nodded in the direction of the distant roof "and you don't want _that_ on your conscience, do you?"

Again the shrug, but he wasn't looking away. There was still hope. I pressed on.

"I really need your help Freddie...Please?" My voice broke at then end and he blinked a couple of times before replying.

"_If_ I help you" and his emphasis on _if_ made my heart sink "What's in it for me Emily?"

OK, I thought, if its a bargain he's looking for, I haven't much to offer, but he would be welcome to whatever I could scrape together after I got out of here.

"I haven't got much money, but I'm sure when I get out I can get a decent amount for you" I started, but he shook his head rapidly, and I realised that money wasn't going to seal the deal here.

"I don't have anything else to offer you Freddie" I said and he just stared at me silently. I may be thick, but even I got the message eventually.

"You don't mean..." I gasped "I'm not.. I mean... I'm gay, remember Freddie?" I looked at him for a long moment, and tried again "I have a girlfriend, I mean a fiancée, and...I've never even been with a guy before. I'm not sure I would even know what to do, I mean I'd probably be completely useless at it..."

I suddenly realised with a shock that I was actually considering his offer. What the fuck, Emily, I scolded myself. '_You're fucking GAY, remember?_' The little devil in my brain kept chipping away as we silently looked at each other. '_What's a fuck between friends. It will be over in minutes and then you'll be free. He's quite attractive for a guy. Just lay there and let him do it, and then it'll be over, and you can go back to being yourself. Its not as if you're a virgin any more is it? All those happy little battery powered friends you and Naomi love so much'_

"_Oh yes_" the other part of my brain said "_But __**you'll**__ know won't you, and next time you're in bed with Naomi, those images will be replaying over and over again in your mind. Oh, and one last thing Emily. You're _shit_ at keeping secrets. And this one would be a biggie, huh?"_

But what choice did I actually have? He was my only way out of here, and if I could stop throwing up long enough for him to shag me, I could be out of here and with my baby in days. I felt my head nodding before my mouth formed the words.

"If that's what it takes Freddie, then I'll do it" I saw his eyes scan my body hungrily and realised that in this world, there aren't many really nice guys.

We parted with his promise to let me know whatever I needed to get out of there. He would get a map and some money to me, and he would contact Katie to arrange for her to meet me. I recited her mobile number to him, and he wrote it on his upper arm, before slipping his sleeve down to cover it.

He actually went to kiss me when I turned to leave, but I stopped him with a look.

"Don't think I am happy about this Freddie" I said, "I thought you actually wanted to be my friend. This is a one off charity event, OK?"

He nodded and had the grace to look embarrassed, before he disappeared into the steam of the kitchen.

I went back and sat with the group of girls under the hot sun and closed my eyes. I hated what I was about to do, but it would be worth it in the end...wouldn't it?

Five miles away, two girls sat in a car. One heavily made up and scarlet with anger, the other dressed in track suit and trainers, rolling her eyes and blowing plumes of white smoke out of the car window. Between them a crumpled map with ball point lines all over it.

"Just where the _fuck_ are we Naomi?" the pretty but angry brunette said for the fifth time in the past hour.

"Close Katie, fucking close, I can feel it" The blonde said simply

The other girl growled at her and honked at an unwary squirrel as it passed across the road in front of the, This despite the fact that they were stationary. An uneasy silence descended on the car. Just five miles then...

**OK guys, Emily has made a decision, is it the right one (No?) and will our girls get to her before she suffers a fate worse than death? (Maybe?) and do you want to review and make a young girl very very happy (YES!)**

**Review and I promise I will be your love slave for at least a month. Ha ha.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**

**WARNING – SPOILERS FOR 'SKINS FIRE' SECOND EPISODE - DONT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE ALREADY SEEN**

**OK, so I'm gonna piss some people off here, because, right out of the box, let me say this isn't really an update. I watched the second episode of Skins Fire last night and it has knocked the Naomiliness right out of me temporarily. I apologise in advance of this unremitting rant, but if I don't get it out of my system, I may just explode.**

**_Cancer_...but not just any old cancer, fucking _terminal_ cancer (there are other types you know?) How many times can two hearts break? If you can temporarily forget the ravaged and exhausted face that our dear Naomi gets towards the end, I salute you. But when our beautiful little Emily, with her inexhaustible supply of 'get up and try again' crumples outside the side ward where her darling Naomi is slowly dying, I think I died inside too. Some of the lines were heartbreaking just on their own**

"**_I said I would never hurt her again, but I'm going to hurt her a lot, and it may never be the same"_**

"_**I love her more than the truth"**_

"_**I'm going to die, what are you going to do?"**_

"_**You didn't deserve the time you had with her. You stole it from me"**_

**Jesus, I thought my tears would never stop. **

**I feel like the past five years may as well not have happened. Lakes, bouncy castles, Mexican moustaches, lots of kisses and love. THEY are the memories I wanted to keep. Not a cold and clinical hospital dying room and poor little Ems sobbing into the chest of her beloved Naomi while she quietly passes... I cried buckets.**

**I _hate_ the Skins writers with a passion. Did you see that Jamie Brittain actually wrote on Twitter that he and Jess (who wrote this shite) were laughing between each other because of the 'death threats' from Naomily fans? How compassionate was that? The whole beautiful Naomily story spoiled irreparably by a shitty ending which only proves that both JB's have over estimated their talent, and underestimated the anger that is now happening. **

**I vote for a total boycott of anything those two write in future, in whatever medium. I will never watch ,or buy anything that they are involved in again. Never.**

**Breaking something this pure, this uplifting and this wonderful is just spiteful. It smacks of two overgrown kids with a rich father who feel that the whole Naomily thing is distracting from their God given talents, and killing off the beautiful Naomi will somehow make us all return to thinking they are the geniuses in the Skins franchise, whereas I prefer Jack Thorne and Ms Gupta as writers any day (See Naomi's episode in S3 if you don't believe me)**

**Sorry again for ranting. I will write more 'Bereft' at the weekend and will get it up for you to read as soon as this deep dark depression has lifted. I never felt less like writing any Naomily goodness than I do right now. **

**Flame me, disagree with me, whatever. I am holding to my views on the above. Sorry if it offends anyone. I just think I have kinda wasted my time watching two whole series of Skins Gen 2, only to find now, when they should be planning a life together after college and Uni, that Naomi is cold and lifeless in the ground, and that Emily will never _ever_ be repaired. I honestly think she would _never_ get over it. I know I wouldn't.**

**Thanks, Skins writers. How to fuck up a wonderful love story in two episodes. I wish you everything you deserve in the future. And take that how you like.**

**Thanks for listening guys. Back to the tissues for me now. **

**Oh, and I _won't_ be watching Cassie or Cooks episodes later. Too much chance of those fuckwits getting him locked up for life and Cassie incarcerated in a mental hospital for ever. **

**Happy endings, can we have a show of hands for some happy endings? Mine will definitely be that now. Even if I hadn't planned one already, I would fucking rewrite if necessary...**

**Lizzie **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

**Hi guys. You will be relieved to hear that this is a proper chapter and not an uncontrolled rant at BE and JB x 2. Not entirely anyway. I've had a chance to process the slow motion train wreck that was Skins Fire and hopefully I've got a better hold on my emotions now. Sorry if I offended anyone, although by the sounds of it, I wasn't alone in being bitter and betrayed about it.**

**Basically, they screwed us. The Elsley/Brittain writing team sat down and decided that this whole Naomily phenomenon had got way out of their control. Websites, Twitter groups, Tumblr, After Ellen, Rophydoes, fan-fiction and all the other associated stuff had grown so big it wasn't their baby any more. It was _ours_, and that wasn't going to be allowed to happen any more. No sir. So they sat down and thought up a way of getting rid of this Naomily 'nonsense' once and for all. So they planned, wrote and carried out an execution. Forget the lameness of the entire script (and try to put out of your minds the fact that Lily and Kat – when they were allowed to, shone through like the true stars that they are) It was an execution of our lovely Naomi. After _this_ ending to Fire, they thought, the fans would grumble a bit, then get on with their lives and forget that Naomily was always bigger than any other storyline and had outgrown its creators. Forget the other thing too. That they used Jess Brittain (that _towering _literary talent – see exhibit number one Skins Series Six, followed by exhibit number two the 'Novel' and I rest my case, your Honour) to write the script and act as executioner. Forget all of those things, because this was a _joint_ effort, carefully crafted and designed to wreck our hopes and dreams about their future together.**

**Well guys, the answers in our own hands, isn't it? _We_ keep them alive, here and in other places, and we refuse to be cowed or beaten by 'them'. Keep the Naomiliness going, ignore the fact that Fire was a torpedo aimed at the good ship Naomily, and erase it from your memories (not easy, I know as all I can keep seeing is a dying Naomi's tortured and exhausted face trying so fucking hard to be brave when Emily is sobbing her heart out on the bed with her) I refuse to be shunted off into the sunset and treated as irrelevant by the Elsley/Brittain franchise. _We_ also have the power, collectively, to send out our own big fuck off torpedo. They, and the suits at Channel 4 were betting on the Naomily fans padding out the viewing figures, which happened in Fire, of course. But we have the option of NOT watching the next two. I don't mean that I won't be sad to miss the Cassie and Cook stories. I loved both characters enormously and will watch it one day. But just now, while the pain in my heart is so acute, and the hatred I feel in particular for Jamie Brittain (the shovel faced shite was _laughing_ at us while the internet went mental – he even tweeted that he and Jess thought it was funny) is so strong, I _will_ boycott it. There's nothing the suits at C4 like less than rock bottom viewing figures. _So_ hard to justify what you've done to your fans then, isn't it JB? When the next royalty cheque is a lot less than you expected and your agent doesn't ring so much.**

**OK, one last mini rant before MY version of Naomily gets continued. And some of you aren't going to like this. _Why_ did Kat and Lily agree to appear in this pile of dog shit? I mean, brilliant actors, beloved by us all, and destined for stardom without doubt. No need to help billy no mates and his sister demolish our hopes, was there? OK, so this won't be a popular view, but I wish now that either Kat or Lily had just said "No". Without them, Skins Fire would have been fucked for viewers. Think about it?**

**Anyway, you want Naomily, I'll give you some, in spades. I will _not_ agree to my last memory of those two being a sterile hospital side ward, a beautiful girl beaten down with crippling disease, hair almost gone and big blue eyes red rimmed, trying bravely to comfort her broken and grief stricken baby, I _won't_!**

**OK, on with the show, and you can pretty much ignore the above if you disagree. Thats fine, its a free country. That's the wonderful thing about long and rambling authors notes, you can fucking _ignore_ them and get on with the story! **

**Lizzie xx**

Naomi

What is it with Scottish B & B's? Don't they have, like double rooms with two beds? Is it so fucking cold up here that everyone has to share a bed to stop from perishing from hypothermia?

We actually decided to find a second guest house to stay in that night, because unless we had, we would have spent another 12 hours in the car together, and that wasn't ever up for discussion. We made a side trip to some godforsaken little village and asked questions. Finally after several aborted conversations with locals who had accents thicker than the deep fried Mars bars they eat up here (is that even a _thing_?) we found someone who could be understood without an interpreter. It didn't help when Katie lost patience with one old boy and started doing her 'nan' impression from 'Little Britain' I don't think looking blankly at an eighty year old and saying sarcastically "Sorry, totally fucking indecipherable, something about kilts?" was going to win us any cross border friendship competitions, was it?

I managed to get us away without being gutted by that wicked looking little knife he had on his belt, and we ended up in the village grocers. After buying fags and a bottle of vodka, just in case I needed it, I found out that this Ranulph House place was about 6 miles from where we were. Near to a golf course, but in a very wild and wet area of gorse and boggy terrain. The woman who owned the shop whispered conspiratorially in my ear as we were leaving that '_strange things went on there_' and why were we visiting it? I couldn't actually tell her the truth, that we were planning on 'busting out' my lover from a half arsed American style conversion camp, could I? I just settled for telling her it was a sanatorium, and my best friend was better now. It sounded lame, and it didn't help when Katie's immaculate eyebrows went up like a fucking express lift when she heard me saying it.

Anyway, we booked into this little bed and breakfast place, on the basis that we had no clue how to get inside Emily's prison, assuming of course that they didn't operate an open door policy, and it could take a little while to sort out a plan of action. But when we were shown to the room, having checked in as sisters to prevent more tongues wagging (no, not that way, you dirty lot!), it had another fucking double bed. The old girl who showed us up clucked happily as we dropped our bags and stood looking at the bed in disbelief.

"You won't mind sharing a bed lassies?" she smiled "being sisters and all"

Katie's glare could have frightened a charging rhino, but the old biddy had already turned away and was on her way down stairs. I couldn't resist. Well you can't can you?

"When are you gonna stop trying to get me into bed with you Katie?" I smirked at her "You had your chance years ago, but I got the lovelier sister"

She opened her mouth to roar at me, but then I saw her start to giggle instead. I think I was more surprised than shocked, and within ten seconds, we were both laughing so hard we had to hold each other up. I hope the landlady was on the other side of the building, otherwise she would now be convinced that we were certifiable as well as being strange southerners.

We unpacked our few bits and I looked out of the window as Katie changed her clothes for the umpteenth time since we had been away. I don't know how many changes you can actually pack into a Vuitton overnight case, but it must have been bigger on the inside than on the outside. It was a marvel of function over form, really. Also, I didn't want to chance my luck too much, with a half naked 'not my fiancée' Fitch in the room. I didn't know how long Katie's good humour would last. I unpacked my own, much less crammed bag, and finally we were ready to plan our next move.

Just then Katie's phone rang. She picked it up and frowned at the '_unknown number_' message.

"Who the fuck is this" she growled, and it was good to see the normal Katie FF was still in there somewhere.

"Answering it will solve that little puzzle, Katiekins" I said, and she blessed me with a trademark fuck off look. She picked it up.

"Hello?" she barked "Who is this?"

I heard some mumbling on the other end and immediately Katie beckoned me over, so I could hear as well. We stood together, shoulders touching as she held the phone outwards.

"Say that again" she said

"Err...like I said, my name is Freddie" the thin voice murmured "I work at Ranulph House, and your sister Emily has give me this number to call. She needs some help?"

I managed to stop Katie going into full overdrive with a warning hand on her forearm. I knew how she would react to being told that. She blocked the mic with her hand and barked at me

"Fuck off Campbell. This is _my_ sister here" she said, in her best pit bull imitation.

"And _my_ fiancée" I said in a voice as hard as hers. "Don't fuck this up Katie"

She shook off my hand and pulled the phone to her ear.

"Listen" she started to talk to the mystery caller "I only need to hear one thing from you. How the fuck do I get her out of there?"

Again the thin murmur, but she was holding the phone away from me, and short of wrestling her for it, I had to be patient. My right leg started its own personal tap dance, a sure sign I was in agitation overdrive.

The conversation was short, and I suppose to the point, because she ended it with a...

"Fine. Eight o clock... at what place..._where_?" she held out her hand and clicked her fingers at me, usually something that would drive me to an extreme physical reaction, but I held my temper, barely, as I scrambled for the ball point in my bag. I handed her the pen and a scrap of paper from the bottom of my pocket. On one side it had my shopping list and even at this tense moment, I saw her eyebrows dance in amusement at the 6 packs of Garibaldi's written at the bottom. Bitch... She turned it over and wrote quickly

I saw the words _Anagach Wood_, and some brief directions in a spidery hand. I dragged out our map as she was ending the call and tried to pinpoint the meeting place. Fuck me, I thought, its in the middle of a forest. Katies car was fine for the open road, but a standard Golf Gti wasn't exactly rally material. I made a mental note to go back to the village shop. We needed a big fuck off torch if we were going to a meeting this far into the wilds.

"OK" she said, dropping the phone on the bed "He says he can help, and that he needs us to give him a mobile to give to Emily"

I looked down at Katie's top end pink cased iPhone 5 and she gave me her patented Medusa stare. "Not a chance, Campbell" she sneered "Your fucking phone is about a hundred years old, if it gets lost you might have to take a trip into the 21st century to buy a decent one, that's all.. Mine is fucking expensive. Oh, and yours is one of those pathetic mini phones too, easier to smuggle, yeah?"

I couldn't argue with her logic, so I gave in. My phone might be old, but it _is_ tiny. I fucking like small phones, right? Can't understand all that touch screen bollocks anyway. I only use it for texts and call , why do I want a fucking portable computer to carry around with me?

We had a wander round the village (not recommended) and bought one of those wind up torches from the shop. It wasn't especially powerful, but there wasn't exactly a great selection. We had something to eat in the only café in town and I saw Katies face scowl as she perused the choice on offer.

"What is this place, cholesterol central?" she said witheringly, looking at the menu. "Do you think salad has ever penetrated this far north?"

I started to laugh, then my face got serious when I remembered a conversation with Emily, years before...something about oils and salads. Happy days, huh? It seemed a very long time ago, in a land a thousand miles from here. We ate in silence, me with a nice thick bacon sandwich, which Katie looked at as if it was going to leap off my plate and assault her taste buds, her with a thin tuna and Mayo one which she barely touched, just nibbled the middle and discarded the crusts.

The hours dragged like hell, but eventually it was dark, and I pulled on a black v neck sweater over my blue Lyle & Scott polo. I left my dark red skinnies on and the black Converse I usually wore. I ignored the inevitable catty comment from Katie about my "totally fucking lesbo" outfit and waited impatiently whilst she hummed and debated her outfit. Eventually I lost my rag.

"For fucks sake Katie" I said bitterly "We're going to rescue your sister, not take our seats in the Royal Box, get a fucking move on, bitch!"

She regarded me with a single jaundiced eye and said, archly

"_You_ might be content to go out looking like kd lang, but I have an image to maintain"

I actually laughed out loud. She was priceless.

"This isn't '_I'm a Celebrity, get me out of here_' Katiekins" I said, still struggling not to laugh "We're in the middle of nowhere, planning a route into some huge forest to meet a random who has news about my fucking girlfriend, and you're worried Ant and Dec will pop out of the undergrowth with a microphone and sign you up for a season?"

She shrugged and finally decided on what top she was going to meet her public in. At last we were ready. We stepped out into the cold night air and got into the car. A half hours drive or so and we stopped to consult the map. I finally spotted the side road after a mile of searching and we turned up into what looked like a forestry trail. Katie moaned all the way about her alloys as we churned up the dirt track, but I tuned her out. Emily was close, and we were about to meet someone who could help me get her back.

**OK, I'm going to end it there, because the car my dad bought me for my 17th birthday has just been in for its MOT. When I called to find out how much it will cost me to get it passed, I nearly fell over. I'm just off to tell my dad that I need to borrow £600... wish me luck!**

**Next chapter, which will be much longer, will feature some definite Naomily time, some of it the horizontal kind. Just so's you can put the kids and parents into the broom cupboard before you start reading. I promised you smut and fluff, and you will get it. But just so's you know, Naomi got it, Emily got it, that termite in the corner got it...but Freddie won't get it, OK?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**

**OK guys, short authors note, because you deserve more story and less anti Skins wailing from me. Skins Fire _didn't_ _happen_, I didn't see it, and as I write, I am holding two fingers in my ears and saying "la la la" a lot. Which is kinda hard, as I don't have three hands (despite what one of my ex girlfriends put on the toilet door in year 13...) ha ha.**

**I don't own Skins, because if I did... well you know the answer to THAT one already.**

**Part seven then, and the plot thickens. **

Emily

When the kitchen door opened this sunny mid morning and Freddie came out with his tatty uniform and scuffed trainers, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Sure, I wanna get out of here, but thinking about shagging Freddie has certainly put a damper on my libido. Before Freddie, at least a few of the nights here, after the group sessions (some of them with _chanting_, believe it or fucking not) and the lamentable excuse for nutrition they call dinner here, alone in my cell, as I call it, I have let my mind wander to happier days, when I was with my darling Naomi and life was simple, certain and full of smiles and hope. The night before Freddie and I had our little 'chat' I actually had a dream which was so real, I woke up gasping, coming hard, with both hands inside my knickers, and believe me, the pillow was getting a right seeing to...

Calling your pillow Naomi and trying to go down on it, is bad, yeah? At the very least it brings new meaning to the words 'wet spot'...OK, no more of that.

The night-time wet dream began as a memory whilst I was drifting off to sleep. We had gone to Turkey last year, a little village near Bodrum. On the coast, with only a smattering of shops and restaurants. We had hired a small open topped Jeep, and used that to get in and out of the town, but most of the time we spent on the beach, or by the pool, teasing the Turkish boys who worked there. You can't blame them I suppose. They were bought up on a diet of 'easy' English girls and women who dropped their underwear at the first flash of white teeth and brown torso's. When they found out we were together, and determinedly in love as well, it was about 3 days before they worked out how to deal with us. Finally, they pretty much ignored us, it was much easier to concentrate their energies on willing victims. They were polite, but uninterested, most unlike British guys who, when they found out that Naoms and I were an item, either wanted excruciatingly gynaecological details, or explicit photo's. Neither of which they got. Still, at least Katie wasn't there, what _is_ it with guys and the twin thing?

So, back to the dream. One day we had been to Bodrum in the morning, done the market and the town centre, and taken a slow stroll on the deserted beach when we got back. We held hands and let the sun darken our already brown skin. Some people looked as we held hands and exchanged the occasional kiss, but did we care? No ma'am. We were in love, on holiday together and life was _good_.

We walked back to the villa and apartment complex, and had a quick swim in the infinity pool to cool off. I perved virtually non stop that holiday on Naomi. Her normally pale skin shone with healthy gold from the sun, and her beautiful eyes and smile lit up my life. What can I say? I fucking love her with all my heart, right?

The daughter of the complex owner was on bar duty that afternoon, and as the place was pretty much deserted, given that everyone else was either out on day trips or still on the beach, we had the rush matting covered bar to ourselves. Laila was behind the bar. She was a stunning dark skinned girl of about 17, with even white teeth and beautiful exotic features. She passed us a beer each, and we sat on bar stools, talking pleasantly to her, she in broken English, us in pidgin Turkish. It didn't matter, we communicated, and at least she didn't spend the conversation trying to spot a stray nipple. It made a nice change.

She was trying to ask us a question, but neither of us could quite understand what she was saying. She kept blushing and dipping her head, and in the end, Naoms got the gist. She was always quicker on the uptake than me. Those three A's meant something after all. She dug me in the arm with her elbow, and after nudging her back, (her elbows were always too fucking sharp for my liking), I got the point. Oh dear, the same old question, just a different source.

As the bar area and pool, were deserted, I thought I would answer it in deed, not word. I pulled Naomi's grinning face round to mine and planted a smacker on her lips. Not the full tongue and lips "I'm horny and I want to shag you senseless" symphony, you understand. More a light piece of chamber music. I have _some_ decorum, but there was no mistaking it for a friendly kiss between old mates. It was a lovers smooch, and I laughed out loud when I looked at Laila again. She was blushing so hard, it even showed through her dark skin. She grinned ruefully at us and spoke.

"Vous et lesbienne?" she said quietly. Sometimes cod French worked for both of us. So sue me?

"Oh _yeah_" I sighed and stroked Naomi's forearm as I did. This produced the normal shudder in my girlfriend, and I had the strangest premonition that this would be the last beer we would have before retiring to see if we could exercise those bed springs again.

Laila got a far away look in her eyes and I suddenly understood. She was gay too.

"You?" I said, more in a whisper than out loud. Who knew if her father and brothers were in earshot? It was a family run place and everyone chipped in. Which meant they were all virtually on 24 hour duty.

"Yes, I think so" she said shyly "But in Turkey...?"

I understood at once. Old fashioned values and a strong Muslim tradition, despite the secular nature of the country, would make it hard for pretty Laila to explore her sexuality openly. She was probably destined for an early marriage and lots of little Turks very soon.

"Sorry for that" I said,meaning it, and Naoms nodded her head too in sympathy. We had had enough trouble with my rabid mother and 'sister in denial' so we had at least an idea of what she was facing.

"You've never...with a girl" Naoms said, and again the face of our host blushed scarlet

"No, never..." she whispered "You are _very_ lucky"

That we were, and we both knew it at that moment.

I felt Naomi nudge me again, and took that as my cue to drain the rest of the bottle in one.

"Well. We're off to have a...little sleep" I said, unconvincingly, and Naomi coughed uncomfortably as the truth of what we were about to do occurred to us both. This poor kid was going to go through her life never knowing, but here we were, off to have a long loving time in the bedroom of our hideaway, for about the 50th time this week. Life really isn't fair, is it?

Laila smiled at us shyly and collected our bottles. She began to clean the bar. Without any customers, after she left, they left an honesty box by the beer pumps. Customers of the complex could help themselves when it was unmanned.

"See you later" we said together, and she giggled prettily at our synchronised answer. We padded barefoot up the stone steps to our villa (really just a small bungalow on the far side of the grassed compound). Closing the door behind me, I went straight to the window shutters and opened them wide. Although we had air con installed, during the day, enough breeze came from the beach below to cool the bedroom. Cool enough to do what we wanted to anyway.

I looked hungrily at Naomi, and saw her eyes darken as I slowly stripped my bikini off. She's always loved my tits. Don't know why, compared to her, I have bee stings, but she loves them anyway. I saw her eyes drop to my nipples, and they crinkled without any more stimulation than her look. Jesus, she turns me on, every fucking time, every fucking _time,_ I thought. Just those ice blue eyes, hot for me, Emily Fitch..

I stepped out of the bottoms and she actually groaned. I liked to shave down there, and she adored the smooth baby look. I used to tease her at first that she was after a schoolgirl really, and I would just do until a nubile year 13, in a pony tail and knee socks turned up, but I knew that was just words. She liked me, no, she loved me, absolutely and completely. Which is fine, because I feel the same way.

In two steps she was with me, her own bikini falling to the floor with two pulls on the ties. It was my turn to gasp, as her nipples grazed mine and her mouth slid up my neck, tongue caressing the sensitive place below my ear. She knew that was my weak spot, and she attacked it every time. I was such a pussy for her loving...

Soon our mouths were moving against each others. This time, with no public to offend, tongues and lips worked together, and both of us moaned at the sensation. Her hand came behind me and cupped my rear possessively. She pulled me against her hard, and I could feel the heat between her legs already. I wanted more, I always did with her. Soon her arms propelled me towards the small bed and I started to collapse backwards. Just as I did , I saw movement at the window. I wanted to stop, to warn her that some pool boy was perving on us, but at just that moment, two straight fingers entered me, wetly and fully. I was so fucking wet for her, there was no resistance to her thrust. I groaned and my eyes rolled back in my head. When I looked back, I _could_ see a face in the window clearly. Not a boy then, I thought, my head full of bursting sensations, and my sex throbbing around Naomi's loving fingers. Her thumb began to circle my clit...

It was Laila.

Her face was flushed, and her mouth open, and I could see how dark her black eyes were even against the light. I could only see her face and upper shoulders, but when she saw me looking, she just blinked twice. I thought she would run then, but something in my 'lost in paradise' expression must have stopped her. To be honest, Usain Bolt could have run into the room, finishing a 200 metres including the celebration pose at the end, and I think I would have been hard pressed to stop Naomi doing what she did so well to me.

Lailas eyes were fixed on Naomi's fingers working inside me but when she glanced at my face again, seemed to plead me to allow this..., and coward that I am, I gave in. I rocked my hips in time with Naomi's fingering and let myself go. Our mutual moans filled the hot room as she brought me closer. Naomi leaned down and sucked my stiff nipple into her mouth and I arched up. I managed one last look at the window, and could see Laila's face contort suddenly and realised that the movements of her right arm, visible by the rapid up and down of her shoulder could only mean one thing. She was masturbating. No, she was coming. It was enough to finish me too.

With a desperate series of moans, I came hard. Being watched is not something I have ever thought about, but that day, in the hot afternoon Turkish sunshine, with my lovely girlfriend skilfully getting me off, it seemed to add a certain spice, you know?

After Naomi rode me down from my intense orgasm with slow fingers and gentle licks on my neck, I finally managed to look back to the window. Nothing. Our little voyeur was gone. I smiled to myself. I doubt Naoms would be quite so impressed with our audience, but I put it down to experience, quickly topped my tormentor, and began to lavish those oral skills I had gained, on her willing body. Soon another climactic shriek split the sultry air. We slept the sleep of the satisfied.

We spent the next few days exploring away from the complex, but I caught Laila's eyes on more than one occasion, when she was working, and I don't think any language skills were required. A wink is the same in any vocabulary, no? She at least had the grace to blush. Someone at least had some mental new material to use at night, when under the sheets, alone...

So waking up with that memory in my mind,fingers still wet with my own excitement, the last thing I wanted to think about was Freddie sticking his pencil dick in the place where Naomi had been the only occupant ever. I got up, showered and suffered another mind numbing group session before we were allowed some free time. The sessions weren't having the slightest effect on me, and I could sense the growing impatience of my captors. Maybe this was the light touch method, I'm sure they had nastier moves to make if I continued to pay lip service to the conversion...Anyway, I had to get out of here somehow, so, when Freddie appeared, I made myself smile at him semi pleasantly, and he seemed to take it well.

He nodded in the direction of the waste bins, classy to the last, and I followed him inside the timber framed section until he had emptied some disgusting slops into a stinking metal bin.

"Here" he said in a stage whisper, and indicated his side pocket. I had no wish to go fishing anywhere near his tackle, but steeled myself to comply. Perhaps I would get away with a hand job, I thought. Please don't say he has no lining to his pocket, I prayed, I might just eject my breakfast if I find anything warm and stiff in there.

But it wasn't an excited cock I felt when I pushed my hand inside the loose pocket. It was a small, narrow block of plastic, and when I pulled it out, I nearly lost my breakfast anyway, but this time in a good way. It was a phone. But not just a phone, Naomi's phone. I had teased her unmercifully about her addiction to old technology, although she was immune to my taunts. She hung on to that old Samsung relic like it was made of gold. And I loved her all the more for that now. I went to flip it open, but Freddie stopped me with a firm hand on my arm. The hairs on my forearm stood up as I felt his hand stroke up and down. Shit, was the pay-off due already? But it wasn't that he was after, at least not yet. He hissed urgently in my ear.

"Not here Emily. Take it up to your room after lunch. It's fully charged, but be fucking careful yeah?"

I nodded agreeably. The rush of optimism I felt holding Naoms phone in my hand made me feel temporarily light headed with pleasure.

"Where is she?" I said "I need to see her" I pleaded with him with my eyes as well as my words, but he shrugged indifferently. I guess Freddie still had plans for my body, and he wasn't about to give up all his secrets at once.

"She's near, but she can't get in here. I met her last night, and she asked me to give you that" He nodded at the phone "and a message"

His look of distaste was obvious as he relayed the message in a flat voice, quite unlike the way I imagined it was delivered to him.

"She says she loves you. Oh, and apparently you owe her £50 for a new bouquet, whatever the fuck that means" he looked at me, waiting for a response.

Tears filled my eyes then. A bouquet. Our wedding. All the pain and suffering she must have gone through hit me hard. I gulped noisily, trying to hold back hot tears.

"Nothing" I said quietly. "It means nothing" Right...

"OK, he said. "Just remember that they check for phones in here all the time. Don't leave it around and don't use any of the obvious places to hide it. It's all been done before" he looked me up and down and licked his lips in a way I really didn't like at all.

"I'm sure you can think of _one_ place to hide it...where it _won't_ get found"

Oh, right, I thought. There. No wonder his eyes have got dark and hungry. The fucking perv is imagining me inserting this phone _there_. I was going to get angry, but the random thought entered my head that it was just as well Naomi favoured small smooth edged phones. I would be in real trouble if she preferred a 7" tablet. I stifled a giggle, and he looked at me as if I had temporarily lost my mind.

"Anyway" he said, looking around to make sure we were still unobserved "Don't use it until tonight, because most of the staff go off at 8. The outer doors and all the internal connecting doors are double locked, so you will hear anyone checking the wing. Just remember, you _owe_ me now Emily, and I want paying in full before I do anything else for you, OK?"

I nodded obediently, but my mind was racing with thoughts of Naomi coming in with the 7th Cavalry and rescuing my sorry arse before I had to perform _any_ thank you acts for him. I didn't like the look in Freddie's eyes at all now. I could almost see the twisted permutations running through his mind, and knew instinctively that I wouldn't be getting away with a passive shag if he had his way. My breakfast again made noises like it was ready to revisit the morning air. I swallowed thickly and nodded again.

Later that afternoon, in my cell, (we had a free period to study our notes from the one to ones), I pulled the phone out from inside my knickers (no not there, the situation wasn't that desperate yet) and checked the reception. Only two bars, but I wasn't surprised, this far out in the sticks, I don't suppose there were too many relay masts. The good thing was it was showing maximum battery life. The great thing about old, basic phones, is that the batteries last a fucking sight longer than modern ones. No fancy screens and internet, just calls and texts. I thumbed open the contacts list and realised there was absolutely no point in dialling her number, I was fucking holding her phone in my hand. My mood lost its bounciness. Was I going to have to wait until she called me? That could be awkward. Naomi had no idea what the routine was in here, she could call just as I was talking to one of the counsellors. I opened the settings menu and checked it was on silent. Then for some reason, I went back into it before saving and ticked the 'vibrate' box. I didn't want to miss her call, whatever the occasion. At least I would know that she had, and what number I could call her back on. I checked the contacts list but it had been erased. I didn't know if that was by Naomi or Freddie. Whatever, I needed outside help to get out of here, so it really didn't matter, did it?

Three hours alter, I was back in my room. The staff had gone off for the evening and I saw from my window the cars leaving through the tall inner wall out to freedom. The sun was low, and darkness was coming quickly across the mountains and glens in the distance. I pined for Bristol's grimy, grey skyline, with the Brunel Bridge and Observatory. It felt so far away, looking out over this alien landscape...

I pulled out the phone and stared at the blank screen hopefully. Nothing. Surely she would phone or text soon, I thought.

Suddenly there was a crash at the end of the corridor and the sound of running feet. Keys jingled and I could hear urgent talking between at least three women. Shit, I thought. The phone!

I looked around for a second, desperately searching for somewhere to hide it, but the bareness of the room defeated me. At once, Freddie's words came back to me. Oh fuck I was hoping that really wouldn't be necessary... Lifting my short skirt I pulled down my black tights a little and fished down the front there. The staff were getting closer, and I could hear the other girls calling out in frightened voices. Doors were being opened, and things thrown about. It was definitely a search, and I wondered bleakly if this had all been a set up by Freddie, designed to get me caught with contraband and locked in isolation.

Do you know how hard it is to put something inside you when you aren't in the least bit excited? I'll spare you the gynaecological details, but shall we say that a fair bit of spit and manual manipulation was required. I felt like I was sitting on a post. Just in time, as it turned out, because my door banged open next. Two women stood there, neither of whom I recognised. This must be the security team, I thought as they bundled me out into the corridor. Out there it was already turning into a ghetto clearance. Clothing, books and bedding strewn everywhere. Girls standing, in various states of undress, looking frightened and warily at the people turning over their rooms inch by inch.

The head (or I assumed it by the way the other goons deferred to her) guard pushed me back against the wall and barked at me aggressively

"Do you have anything in your room you shouldn't have Fitch" she said, looking at me with hard eyes.

"Only me" I said defiantly "Like the rest of us , I shouldn't fucking _be_ here"

She smirked nastily and looked me up and down. I knew when I was being checked out and wondered briefly how a bull dyke like this was considered to be a suitable person to staff a home for heterosexual conversion. Go figure.

"Get used to it" she said "You'll be here for as long as it takes. No one leaves until we're happy, get it?"

I looked back at her impassively, not wanting to give her any excuse to hold me any longer. Within a few minutes, nothing being found, they started pushing the girls back into their rooms, throwing the bundles of searched clothing and stuff back in after them, I saw doors banging closed and heard the sound of a couple of girls snivelling. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction, I thought, and looked stonily at the wall opposite as they finished with mine.

"Right Fitch, body search" the head goon barked at me, and one of the others held my hands above my head as she ran her fingers over me. She was thorough, I'll give her that. Up and down my arms, down my sides, around my waistband, up and down my legs both sides and round to my rear. She saved the best to last of course, taking her time giving my tits a good squeeze as she 'searched' them. I looked over her shoulder and gritted my teeth as she had her little perv on me.

She held her face close to me as she finished and smiled nastily

"Nothing this time, but I enjoy a good search Emily" she breathed. I could smell garlic and ineffective mouthwash, and I tried hard not to give her any reaction at all.

She patted me on the shoulder as the other woman released my arms.

"Have a good nights sleep Emily" she smiled.

Just at that second I felt something, and as she was turning away, she suddenly looked back. I tried, I mean I really tried, but how the fuck do you keep a straight face when a small phone is buzzing inside you. I cursed myself for putting vibrate on. The fucking thing went on and on. God forgive me, I tried desperately to recite the 13 times table in my head, attempting to keep my face neutral, but I failed.

The goon looked at me as if I had grown two heads. My legs trembled as the vibration increased and I realised with horror that this phone got louder as it carried on buzzing. Sweat broke out on my forehead and searched my scrambled brain for something to say, any fucking thing.

Just then, with perfect timing, a door opened down the corridor and a tousled head appeared. It was young Jackie

"Can I use the toilet now miss?" she cried, obviously crossing her legs in an attempt to stop herself losing it.

The goon, who had been staring at me intently, turned her head to say yes or no, whatever, but at that moment the vibration stopped. I never wished so hard for Naomi to stop calling me as I did then. _Please_ don't call back, I thought. My legs clenched together with the aftershocks of the unanswered call. **Please** Naomi...

Luckily that was the end of the entertainment for the night. With one last hard look at me, the guard and her cronies disappeared down the corridor. I stumbled into my room and waited until the keys rattled in the locks at the end before sitting down gingerly. Fuck , that was close.

Ten minutes later, when I was sure they were really gone, I fished out Naomi's phone. Wiping it on my wash cloth, I grinned to myself ruefully. Fucking hell, I thought, phone sex is one thing but...

**Thats it for now my lovelies. Review if you want! Next chapter Naomi and Katie's account of the meeting with Freddie and the aftermath of Emilys fun on the phone. I know that bits of it were kinda crude, but when has Skins ever _not_ been crude? ha ha**

**I'm nearly over Skins Fire now. I just airbrushed it from my memory. I suggest you do too. Oh, and I know some lovely authors are trying to give us resolution by writing stories which end the 'death scene' with sensitivity and skill, and I _really_ appreciate the love and care with which they do it. But I can't...I just can't. She is too precious to me to kill with cancer. Sorry. Stories which tell of months of recovery and ultimate redemption, or just stories which play out the whole tragic thing in detail make me cry. Virtually no one with stage 4 cancer survives. Full stop. By that stage treatment has been withdrawn, and only palliative care is offered. Naomi died in Skins Fire and that's why it will never _ever_ be alright for me. And don't even get me on to what life would have been like for Ems without her. I know she was always the brave one, but this would have ruined her life, to paraphrase her lovely Naoms. _Ruined_. You don't get over that. **

**Anyway, airbrushed, right?**

**On with the next one, up Tuesday, if anyone's interested?**


	8. Chapter 8

**HI again**

**Next chapter as promised. Now we are positively and definitely post Skins Fire, I have been overwhelmed by the amount of updating that's gone on in this little corner of the Naomily universe. Great, and far more clever authors than me have added to their already brilliant stories, and it seems as though the entire fandom has collectively decided to stick up a rigid middle digit at the fuckwits who wrote that garbage. Good. Naomily _lives_, right?**

**I don't own Skins otherwise...well you get the point.**

Naomi

When we finally skidded to a halt after seeing a scruffy Peugeot pulled up at the side of the forest road with its side lights on, I was glad to get out of the car, for more than one reason. Katie's constant moaning about the occasional pothole and brush of branches was beginning to grate, and apart from that, the bouncing around was making me slightly car sick. I unclipped my belt and jumped out, even before Katie had put the handbrake on. She put a hand on my arm as I reached for the door, hissing.

"Wait, we don't know what or who..."

But it was too late, I was out and upright by the time she had finished the sentence.

I could see a tallish figure by the side of the battered 206, dark hair, skinny and with fashion sense that made me look like a catwalk model. Torn jeans, a tee that looked like it had been washed a hundred times, judging by the drooping neck and washed out colour and an old pair of vans, scuffed and faded. I know it was dark, even in the lights from Katies Golf, and by this time had started raining quite hard, but he obviously wasn't a sharp suited mobster, so I thought I was probably safe, especially with KFF as back up. Effy may have trumped her sheer physicality once, but I didn't think this streak of piss would make much of a fight of it, if it came to it. I strode over to him purposefully and looked him up and down, trying hard to intimidate.

"Well?" I said shortly "What are you prepared to do to get my girlfriend out of there, and what's your price?"

He blinked at me a couple of times before answering.

"Well, hi to you too" he finally said in an amused voice, obviously not intimidated at all "Not much for small talk are you?"

I gave him a hard stare as Katie fussed in the boot of the Golf, getting out a fucking umbrella, would you believe? The world could be coming to an end , but there was no way Katie Fitch was going to be seen with wet hair.

"You didn't answer my question friend" I said grimly "We're not here to start a warm and cuddly relationship, just to get Emily out of there. What are you offering?"

Katie appeared at my shoulder, but the guys eyes were fixed on me. Later I would be grateful for that small fact, but for now, I concentrated on the job in hand. His eyes narrowed as I showed no signs of thawing, and I thought right, now to the meat.

"OK" he said calmly "Here's the deal. That place is locked up tighter than a vicars daughter. There's no way you are going to just walk in and get her out. The main gates are locked at night and she is in a wing which is inside another walled perimeter. Lots of girls have tried the Colditz style escape attempt, but it's never been done, not in the two years I have been working there anyway"

He looked at me with hard eyes, and I realised then that he wasn't as much of a pushover as he looked, skater boys outfit or not. I stayed silent, feeling Katies impatience next to me, but something told me to keep her on a tight leash. This fucker could just get back in his scruffy car and go back to being opposition, instead of the only sane hope we had of communicating with Emily, much less get her out of the place.

"If you try the obvious 'bang bang, who's there' approach, they have a place in Wales, and another one in Northern Ireland, just as inaccessible and remote as this one. Turn up at the door with a posse, and Emily will be ghosted away in minutes, out the back and off to another facility. I don't think you guys know what you're up against. This place is funded by a big US Christian 'charity' which goes under the name of 'Pure Ways' and it has serious backing from lots of nutty southern preachers and fundamentalists. They pay a lot to keep this place running, and that includes paying off the local police and government. You won't get any help from the people round here. They do very well out of Ranulph House"

Fuck, I thought. This is worse than I thought. I thought we just needed to locate the place, get someone on the inside to help us communicate with Ems until I could alert the authorities that she was being held against her will, and we would be away. It wasn't going to be that easy.

He smirked unpleasantly and I increased my dislike of him another 50%. Before I could say anything else, Katie interrupted. I knew I couldn't keep her quiet all night.

"So, does this fucking meeting in the middle of nowhere have a _purpose_, or have you got us here just to admire your sparkling wit and incredible dress sense?" she said icily.

I winced. Katie Fitch...always ready to say the things other people only think.

She was sheltering under the black umbrella as the rain had started to sluice down between the branches of the trees, so her insults sort of hung there in the damp air.

The guy just grinned at us and held out his hand.

"What?" I barked

"A phone?" he said "Something to communicate with?"

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my little Samsung. I had deleted all the contacts on it apart from my own number. I wasn't about to give my whole life to a complete stranger, desperate as I was. I handed it to him without commenting any more.

"Right" he said, suddenly all business "You be here tomorrow night with £1000 and a change of clothes for your girl. I'll get the phone to her, so you can coordinate things before then. I know a way inside that doesn't involve gates and locks. That house is full of secrets even the owners don't know about. The Scots were fooling the English for generations before your pretty friend arrived" He smirked again.

"A thousand fucking pounds?" I said, "where do you think I am going to get that sort of money at 24 hours notice?"

He shrugged and said "Not my problem. In any case, that's only part payment. Emily is settling the other half of the bill"

"W...what?" I spluttered "Emily doesn't _have_ a thousand pounds. Anyway, how can she pay you when she's locked up in there, anyway?. She has nothing but what she's wearing"

"Oh, don't worry about Emilys half of the bill. She's paying me _another_ way" He winked sleazily at me and if I hadn't already been soaked with cold rain, I would have shivered like a shipwrecked sailor at that.

"You bastard" I started to scream and lunged towards him "You touch her and I'll fucking kill you"

Katies grip on my arms from behind was immediate, tight and steely. She held me as I fought to get to him. He just looked at me as I did, not flinching at all. I guess I had underestimated him. He might look like an overgrown school boy but he was clever enough to know that we had no alternative. It was him or nothing. Bastard.

Katie whispered in my ear as I continued to stare at him in utter hatred.

"Naomi, don't" she hissed urgently "Just go along with it, OK?"

I couldn't believe my ears. Katie Fitch agreeing to her sister being forcibly shagged by this blackmailer. Surely even _she_ would baulk at making that sort of bargain. Emily is her sister for fucks sake?

The guy just stood there as we wrestled. It was no good, Katie was always the stronger one. I subsided as I realised I wouldn't be able to get free as long as she wanted to hold onto me. Tears started to fall again from my eyes, joining the wetness of the rain on my cheeks.

"B..but Katie...we can't let him..." I sobbed

"Shhh" she said quietly. "This isn't over yet"

She turned me so that I was between her and him, She held my face in her hands and spoke.

"Trust me Naomi. This _isn't_ the end of it"

I nodded numbly. What else could I say?

He seemed to lose interest then, and waved a dismissive hand in our direction.

"See you tomorrow girls" he said brightly, and my hatred meter went up another notch or three. I heard his car door slam and within seconds, we were alone again, just the smell of burnt petrol and the thrumming of the rain on the sodden ground left.

"What the **FUCK** was that Katie" I said finally "Does your hatred of us perverted lesbians run so deep, you're prepared to offer up your sister like a fucking harem slave to that wanker? How can we trust him anyway? He could have our thousand pounds, _fuck_ my girlfriend as a side order and just disappear back inside that prison. We have no way of enforcing his side of the bargain.

She looked at me as if I was a two year old being potty trained.

"Sometimes... no strike that, _most_ of the time, I wonder what the fuck my sister sees in you Campbell" she sneered. "Lets lay it out for you then, OK, in words and syllables that even _you_ can master. First, we have no choice – at the moment – other than agreeing to what he's asking for. Second, if you think for one second that I'm about to offer up my sister as a sacrificial lamb to that limp dick, you don't even know me at all. And thirdly..." she paused for effect "I have an idea"

"Well fuck me with a lubricated rolling pin. Of course you have an idea. Silly me" I said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "So when did this brilliant idea come to you. Was it before or after you stopped to open your umbrella in case the rain ruined your curls?"

She just stood there, arms folded and regarded me with her 'responsible adult looking at hormonal teenager' look. I nearly exploded with rage, but she spoke before I could confirm what a fuck wit I really was.

"Answer me this simple question Naomi" she said " Did our friend there get a good look at you tonight?"

"What sort of question is that?" I said stupidly "Of course he did, we were standing about two feet apart the whole time"

"OK" she said "So answer this one for a bonus point... "Did he get a good look at _me_ as well?"

"W...what" I said, and looked at her helplessly. Twenty questions was never my strongest suit. "No, I mean...You were behind me, and under that stupid umbrella until I tried to attack him"

"OK" she said, "So I think we can safely say he doesn't know I am her twin sister right, because if he did, we would have had the inevitable comments from a horny male. Especially one that already...literally...fancies the pants of my sister...right?"

I nodded. The plot was becoming clearer...

"Have you ever heard from Emily of the 'Fitch Switch?" she said

""What, like when she took your History AS exam for you when you were so hung over you couldn't get out of bed?"

"That was one time" she said simply "But we played that trick a few times, when we were younger. It came in handy on all sorts of occasions actually. The only people we couldn't fool were my parents. Can you see how that would be useful in a situation like this?"

My dumb look must have told her the opposite, so she sighed extravagantly, and tapped her inappropriate ballet pump shoe on the soggy ground impatiently.

"God, Campbell" she breathed "How the fuck you ever stole my sisters heart is beyond me. She must _really_ like care in the community"

I let that one slide...

"Our plan, dumbass, is to let this fucker believe he has everything he wants, then engineer a switch on him. If there's a way out of that place, there's also a way in, right? But first, we need a thousand pounds" she slid her iPhone out of her pocket and cursed as the signal indicator showed no bars.

"Lets get the fuck out of here. I feel the need for civilisation and alcohol"

The drive back to the guest house was mostly silent. I still had no idea how we were going to do this switch and Emily was still locked up in that place without me. I just hoped that Katie Fucking Fitch was as clever as she obviously thought she was.

Drying my hair after a long hot shower, I could hear Katie taking advantage of the big roll top bath in the en suite. In addition to the umpteen changes of clothes she had in that bag, there was obviously still room for the entire Chanel range of woman's toiletries. I resigned myself to sharing another night in bed with a perfumed and squeaky clean Katie. I suppose there are worse things.

Tucked up in bed, with the obligatory maximum space between us, because sharing a double bed with my partners sister is still so _weird_ that I don't even have words to describe it, we chatted aimlessly for a few minutes. We were both still on a bit of a high since our meeting with the evil skater boi, but progress, of some sort had been made. I still had no clue how Katie was going to get away with this famous 'Fitch Switch', but it seemed our best hope. I had no answers to offer anyway, so I think wisely kept quiet about my reservations. Believe it or not, with two short phone calls, Katie had arranged for £1000 to be transferred to the nearest branch of her bank for withdrawal tomorrow. I don't know how she does it, I have enough trouble getting the cash point to understand me.

We had a couple of small glasses of scotch before bed, but I wasn't really in the mood to drink. Not now. My head was still full of Emily images. How was she, was she being treated badly? Was she, even now paying off her part of the bargain. My head sang with unpleasant images, and I tried really hard not to think about that, but it was difficult. Memories of my own adolescent fumbling with boys kept popping up. I have to say that the only pink and throbbing thing I ever want to hold in my hand is a battery powered Mr Blobby, but I pined for Emily. She had even less experience with guys than me, so I knew she would be terrified and disgusted in equal measure at the prospect of shagging this Freddie character.

Katie had turned on her side, away from me, but with a sigh, she sat up abruptly.

"For fucks sake" she spat "I can actually _hear_ your brain working Campbell"

I sighed too, and turned to face her in turn.

"Can't help it" I said dejectedly "Just the thought of that animal with his hands all over Emily makes me sick to my stomach"

I saw a flash of what looked suspiciously like sympathy pass over her, but it was fleeting, and I could have been mistaken. She sighed again, but this time angrily

"Look. If the worst happens and she has to give him a hand job or something, is that so fucking catastrophic?" she said "Jesus, I should have arms like Rapha Nadal, the number I have given. A few minutes moaning and groaning, a handy tissue, and you can get on with the rest of your day whilst the guy rolls over and snores a bit"

"Romantic" I said "Your outlook on life is so dreamy Katie, I'm surprised they haven't made a film about it. I'm sure Jennifer Aniston is free this month"

Sarcasm was always wasted on her, and this was no exception.

"Fuck off, lezzer" she barked, but a small smile flitted across her mouth before she could stop it. Jesus, Katie Fitch with a sense of humour, this world was becoming more alien by the minute. I rode my luck and tried another comment.

"Never wanted to get back into tipping the velvet, Katie?" I snarked and raised one eyebrow in what I hoped was a superior look.

She looked at me puzzled for a millisecond, but then her brow furrowed in distaste.

"**NO**" she said, a little too definitely for me. "Once was enough, thanks so much for your concern"

"Jenny said you were a _very_ willing convert" I grinned "Positively eager", hoping she was far enough away to keep the fists at bay.

"Look, one adolescent experiment, nothing more, never repeated since OK?" she said slowly, as if I needed each word enunciating carefully.

"Not even once?" I said "what about that Emo girl I saw you with in Park Street, right after Emily and I got together permanently. You looked so sweet, hand in hand..."

Her look of horror was worth the admission price alone, and I think that was the first time I had actually managed to surprise her.

"Danny was a one night thing, OK" she said, but this time her words weren't so sure. "I walked her home, and she insisted on holding my fucking hand, right? No biggie, I was just... wanting someone at that moment, and she happened to be there" She had the grace to blush "She was a damned good fuck too...for a lezzer"

I raised my eyebrow. This was too good to resist.

"So...I elongated my answer deliberately "_Twice_ then... Maybe you are looking in the wrong trousers for fun these days Katiekins"

She growled deep in her throat, and I thought for a second I may have tried my luck too many times.

"Look" she said in a hard voice "This is _too_ fucking weird for words Campbell. I am **NOT** discussing my sex life, bi or otherwise, with my sisters lamo girlfriend, whilst tucked in _bed_ with the bitch!. Go to fucking sleep, or jog off into the bathroom and work off those twisted lesbian fantasies on your own. Just keep it down. Get some sleep".

And that was that. End of subject I guess. I sighed myself, and turned over, plumping the pillow under my head and tucking my arm under it. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, and after another ten minutes of restless thinking, my eyes drooped and I drifted off.

**OK. Shorter than the last chapter, but I hope still satisfying, tying up the ends. Tomorrow brings cash, sex and plot twists to the mix. Who does what to whom and for what reward, you'll have to wait and see. Friday is the next time I will be able to write more on this, but I have a small surprise for anyone who is interested. I _am_ over the Skins Fire débâcle now, well mostly. But I have changed my mind about doing anything about my feelings for the way it ended. I had a long chat with my bff Chloe, and she told me that I have always used writing to get things out of my system, so why was I shying away from doing anything about the shameful way JB and crew dealt with Naomily. So I thought about it. And although my efforts will be a pale imitation of the sort of things _emilionaomikins_ and others may do, I want to put my own stamp on an ending. It won't be an airbrush type rewrite. I personally _love_ AU, but I think they have shot us below the waterline on that. I will never be able to erase the memory of Naomi in that bed. But I can try in my small way, to give her a better send off. It will be a one shot, and it will be sad. But you are free to ignore it as you wish. Losing my sister in Match was agonising, and I think I'm only just getting over the daily aches and tears. But without trying to bore you with my personal grief, I can try at least to assuage the pain of having to see Naomi suffer a similar fate, but with no more care than a discarded wrapper. They (Naomi and Emily) and we (the fans worldwide) deserved better. **

**So look out for a short (2k?) one shot which I hope will be at least readable, if not pleasant. Thanks for listening. Oh and thanks too to the many wonderful writers on here, whose work I have revisited recently. Happy days were remembered and enjoyed. You know who you are. And also thanks to my lovely reviewers. You make me happier than I can say. I would marry you all, but I think there is a law against that kind of thing.**

**Lizzie**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**

**Firstly, apologies to those who reviewed, followed and favourited this story. I have shamefully neglected it since starting 'Long Road Home'. I thought I could multi task, but apparently not...:(**

**But the good news (that's if anyone is still interested) is that this is actually _a_ _new_ _chapter_!**

**But I warn you, that things are about to get very dark and angsty. During the hiatus, I had a chance to re read and review what I had written previously, and I found myself in a much gloomier place. My other long term project (see above) is likely to be a better refuge if you want Naomily goodness and lots of horizontal jogging from our ladies. I had another idea about this story, and well...it just wouldn't go away. You might love it, you might hate it, but it's inside me, and it has to come _out_! I'm pretty sure other authors on here will understand, but I'm hoping my lovely followers and readers will too. So, you have been warned, OK?**

**Right...**

I think it all went to shit gradually, although, looking back it seems to have pretty much happened overnight.

We went back to the clearing the next night...and the next, and the one after that. Every time we were met by Freddie with a different feeble excuse. The security had been increased, Emily was exhausted, he hadn't been able to see her today, it just wasn't the right moment etc etc... I was incoherent with anxiety, Katie was getting very, very agitated, and I don't even want to think about how this was all affecting Emily. To have her hopes raised and dashed night after night must have been torture. To make things worse, financially I was in the deep doggy doo doos. Unplanned trips to Scotland can be fucking expensive, even with Katies (now cancelled) ex's credit card, and to make things worse, after the third night in the same room, and the same _bed_, we were starting to get on each others nerves a lot.. .and it didn't help that Emily's (my) smuggled mobile had mysteriously lost its signal. I texted and phoned her about a thousand times over the next few days. Not one answer. This was getting seriously fucked up. Along with Katies phone bill.

Finally, over a week later, after we gave Freddie an ultimatum, get us in there or we would go the police route, whatever the consequences, it all came to nothing anyway. Katie got a phone call while she was in the bathroom, from her Dad of all people...

She came out of the room with a strange look on her face, holding her mobile loosely in one hand.

"She's out" she said flatly "My Dad turned up here with a lawyer and some special ops squad from the Metropolitan Police. Apparently my mum is under arrest back home, and Emily has been taken to a 'place of safety', whatever the fuck that means. We need to leave now"

We spent the next ten minutes frantically packing up our stuff, and checking out. Then we sped off in Katie's car to Edinburgh, to where Emily was apparently en route with Rob and the cops. That was possibly the longest 2 hours of my life. Katie said almost nothing, but I caught her sideways glances often enough to be fucking worried. Those looks told me nothing and everything all at once. She knew something, but she wasn't about to share.

The cops had taken Emily and her father to the Balmoral Hotel, right in the middle of the city, so we spent a fucking age finding somewhere to park. Finally, we passed the uniformed doormen and went into the lobby. Katie charmed the concierge, and we went up to the Classic Suite, where they had apparently been pre booked in. I knocked at the door and a uniformed female officer answered. We must have looked a bit of a state. We hadn't dressed for effect before we left, so must have presented a bit of a surprise in this posh place. I guess it must have been Katies impressive cleavage which had got us this far. My wrinkled trackie bottoms and sweatshirt certainly weren't normal guest wear in this establishment. It was more a tweed and pearls place.

That's when I got my first shock. There was a whispered conversation with someone inside, while I wrung my hands and hopped about in my eagerness to see Emily, presumably inside the big oak door. Finally the policewoman smiled at me kindly and said.

"Which one of you is Katie?" in a deep Scottish accent

Which of course is a bit fucking ridiculous on all sorts of levels. Me, blonde, tall and blue eyed, Katie short, dark haired and the fucking image of her sister. I rolled my eyes dramatically and scowled at the Scottish bint in front of me.

"Well, Duh" I said scathingly. "Isn't that a bit obvious?"

Her smile faded pretty quickly and she adopted that patented blank look you get when someone in authority wants to get all official on your arse.

"In that case, young lady" she said flatly. "I'm afraid its family only at the moment. No exceptions"

I blinked at her in total disbelief

"Family?" I shouted, hearing my raised voice echo down the thickly carpeted corridor,and certainly alarming the American family who were just leaving their suite.

"I'm her fucking _fiancée_" I yelled "Is that family enough for you Officer Dibble?" I glared at her in what I hoped was a threatening stare. Fat chance.

She looked at me and waited for me to calm down before answering in that same official monotone. It sounded like she was giving evidence in court.

"These are not our rules, Miss...?" She said

"Campbell" I said, blinking back tears of frustration.

"Miss...Campbell" she said slowly "These are Emily's instructions. I'm going to have to ask you to wait in the lobby until, or indeed _if,_ those instructions are changed...please?" The last with a definite edge to her voice.

I was all for risking arrest and trying a direct frontal assault on this fucking uniformed jobsworth, but Katie once again came to my rescue. She circled me with her arms from behind and spoke urgently into my ear.

"Listen Naomi" she hissed "It's probably a bureaucratic fuck up. Let me go in and sort it out...OK?"

I breathed hard as I tried to rationalise what she was saying. Finally I slumped in her grip. What was another few minutes in the greater scheme of things? Emily had been kept away from me for weeks, I just had to wait for Katie to weave her fierce magic. I nodded as she kept holding on to me.

"OK" I said quietly "I'm gonna be right here though. Fuck the lobby" I nodded towards a purple, padded chaise longue which stood at the end of the corridor next to the lifts. She nodded her agreement.

Katie released me with a sigh and pushed past the constable into the room with just the briefest of Fitch Medusa glares at the cop. The door shut behind them both with a heavy, definite clunk, and I heard a lock being turned. No frontal assault on _that_ door would succeed, I thought to myself bleakly.

I walked unsteadily towards the lifts, eventually collapsing onto the overstuffed seat and waited.

And waited...and waited. I stood up, I sat down, I fiddled with the cord on my trackies and I stared unseeing at the expensive prints on the flock walls. I paced up and down mindlessly, and more than one passing guest gave me a wide berth as I muttered to myself in impatience. What the actual _fuck_ was happening in there?

Eventually, after what must have been nearly 15 minutes, Katie came out and walked quickly towards me. I met her half way. My hopeful smile died as I got to her. Her own face was grim and set. I had seen her upset before, but she was past that now.

"Stupid, stupid bitch" she spat

"W...what happened Katie..." I said "Where is she, is she OK...can I see her?"

My questions merged into a stuttering mess as she continued to stare past me down the empty corridor. She sighed heavily and visibly tried to compose herself.

"She won't see you" she said slowly, and the bottom of my world fell away.

"W...what?" I said, my voice rising an octave "Why Katie...why? I've done nothing wrong...I love her. I..." I finally ran out of words.

"She's in a mess Naomi, a real mess. I don't know what happened during that last week when Freddie was fucking us about, but she looks...broken...empty. She just cries all the time and hangs on to Dad like he's got all the answers to her fucking prayers. She barely even looked at me either. There's a psychiatrist and some other fucking counsellor with her, as well as a couple of other policewomen. They've asked us to give them some time with her"

"But I **need** to see her Katie" I said pathetically "She's my whole life, my love...my..."

I broke then and cried in Katies arms for what seemed like a month. She eventually got fed up with me soaking her designer top and held me at arms length.

"Fucks sake Campbell" she grated "Thats another £60 you've cost me. Let's get out of here. She won't see either of us, at least for now. We know she's safe, and Dad's with her. He's told me when she exhausts herself and goes to sleep, coz they've given her a shed load of Valium, he'll find us and explain what's happened"

What else could I do? I allowed Katie to lead me out of the hotel and across Princes street to Jenners Department store. We sat in the coffee bar at the back, avoiding the curious glances of the tourists as we sipped too hot coffee and I tried to make myself look more like a human being. It didn't work, of course. My eyes were red rimmed and puffy, but at least I'd stopped sobbing for a while.

Katie tried to lighten the mood by reminding me that she was at least out of there now. She was obviously thoroughly traumatised, but physically, she seemed OK. We just had to give it time...yadda yadda yadda...

I heard her without listening. Her voice blended with the general hum of conversation in the busy café, and eventually she gave up trying and so we sat in less than comfortable silence for a while.

I saw him first, crossing the floor towards us. Rob Fitch. He looked tired and grey, with his trademark wide grin absent. Suddenly he looked more the anxious middle aged parent he now was, rather than the chirpy optimistic Scouser I remembered.

When he got to us, we ordered him a tea, and another two coffees for me and Katie. We'd had too many pointed looks from the waitresses over hour we had sat there already, so spending the last money in my purse seemed a small sacrifice to allow us to stay and hear what he had to say.

He took a deep breath as the waitress went off with our order.

"Look Naomi" he said "This is going to be difficult, so I'm not going to mess you about. She's devastated at what's happened to her. She thinks you abandoned her in there"

He held up his hand as I went to interrupt.

"I know, I know" he said "Katies told me everything. I know you both did everything that you could to try to get her out. What I don't understand is why you didn't talk to me in the first place...I mean, I could have had her out of there in _days_, not weeks"

I glared at him, but Katie got there first, as I opened my mouth to speak. The theme for the day seemed to be shut the fuck up Naomi.

"Yeah, right Dad" she said in a low angry tone "Since when have you been 'Mr Stand Up To Jenna Fitch'? Lets be _really_ honest here, seeing as we're OK with opening up family secrets now. You stood by when my mother" She spat out the word like it was an unpleasant taste in her mouth "gave Emily hell about her sexuality. And OK, I was as much to blame as her, but you were always on her side, even if you didn't join in the tormenting"

He had the grace to grimace at that accurate description of his previous behaviour. He had never quite been the total obstruction to happiness Emily and I had endured from Katie and Jenna, but he sure as hell never interfered or argued on our behalf. I guess we were all sharing some blame here today.

"OK" he said "I can't say thats not fair. But kidnapping Emsy?...trying to brainwash her into being something she's not? I would **never** have agreed to that Katie. Your mum told me that Emily had second thoughts about getting married and had gone away to think things through. It was only when James found that scrap of paper with the letterhead of that fucking monkey house on it, I realised what had actually gone on. But by that time you two were already up here, trying to get her out, and I knew it would take more than two scared girls with a couple of quid in their pockets to get in there. My mate knows someone in the Met who works on hostage situations, and he put me onto a special squad who have been investigating this outfit for months. When he got my request to come up here and raid the place for Emily, it all happened really quickly"

"So where are we Rob?" I finally managed to get a word in "Why won't she see me?

"I've explained what I know Naomi" he said, looking anywhere but into my eyes. "At the moment, she just wants to be with me and her immediate family. She's lost her trust you see, and the counsellor says we have go along with what she says for now. I'm sure she'll come round love. Once we get her back to Bristol, and the psych's have finished patching her up, she'll realise that you love her and have always been there for her, and that you still have a future together. But charging in there and upsetting her all over again just isn't going to happen. She's gotta make a statement to the bizzies and then, when she's rested, we'll get her back home. Why don't you go on back down South with Katie, and we'll be home before you know it?"

I know it sounds weak, I know it sounds defeatist, but what could I do...really?

So we went 'home'. The seven hour journey, with just a couple of toilet breaks, seemed endless. Finally, exhausted and gritty from lack of sleep and bathing, I put the key into my apartment front door lock and waded through the junk mail to my...our home.

I just managed to stay awake for long enough to give myself a 5 minute scalding hot shower, then, dropping the towel to the bedroom floor, I collapsed naked onto the bed. Katie had gone back to her own place, so for the first time in what seemed like years, I was alone. I woke up 11 hours later. It was early afternoon, and I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying to make sense of this strange new world I seemed to be living in. Emily was free, but didn't want to see me. I stifled a sob. I'd cried enough this past 24 hours, I needed to see her **now**. I jumped up and quickly showered again, then scrubbed my teeth, looking curiously at the haggard stranger in the mirror. My roots badly needed doing and those bags under my eyes didn't exactly enhance my good looks.. Pulling on a pair of jeans and scoop neck black tee over my white cotton bra and knickers, I checked my answering machine. Nothing. Just PPI shysters and fucking ambulance chasing lawyers after 'accident' business. I deleted their messages savagely, hammering the button every time some smooth mock sympathetic sales pitch began. There _was_ one from my mum, asking me to call her, and two from Effy, both sounding worried for me and Emily. Remembering that my own mobile was presumably lost for ever, I mentally check listed myself to drop into Carphone Warehouse on the way back from Katies to buy a replacement. I would need some way to communicate, even if the only person I really wanted to speak to was ignoring me.

After getting to Katies and spending a fruitless ten minutes pressing her buzzer, I realised she must be out. Right. I went straight to Effys place, hammering on the door impatiently. Luckily she was in. After a brief hug, she sat me down on her couch and made me give her a complete update on what had happened. After 15 minutes, and two coffees, we were straight. Effy never judges, never really engages, she just listens, and then gives you the shortest, most incisive piece of advice you'll ever get. Its just her.

"Don't call, don't go there. Give her the time she needs" she said "She loves you, and she needs you. She just doesn't know it yet"

I hated her, and I loved her all at once. Fucking Effy Stonem...

So we spent an hour getting me a new phone, charging it and loading all my contacts onto it via Effy's laptop. It gave me something constructive to do and when I finally saw all my friends names come up on the screen, I smiled for the first time in what seemed months. I immediately phoned Katie.

"What?" she said, never one to waste words, especially on lezzer losers like me of course.

"Err..._news_ Katie?" I said caustically "Me, You, Sister Emily, recently released from a madhouse...ring any bells?"

"Nothing to tell you babe" she said "She's been asleep for fucking ages. The cops and trick cyclists have gone. Mums in court this afternoon, looking for fucking bail, would you believe. Dad and I have to go to the hearing"

"She...she's not getting _out_? I said, my voice betraying my fear.

"No fucking chance Naomi" Katie said viciously "Even Dad won't contemplate _that_. We're going to object to bail. The prosecution want us to say it would harm Emily, knowing she was out, and in any case, where would she fucking go? She's not going back home while Ems is there, is she?"

I let out a deep breath, realising I had been holding it for seconds.

"Thank God" I said shortly "That's the last thing Emily needs"

"Well, gotta go lezzer" Katie breezed "We'll be late for court. There's a nurse here at the moment, and she's gonna wait with Emily until she wakes up and we get back from court. Why don't you call me at 5, and we'll see if my sister has come to her senses yet?"

So I did. She hadn't. She needed more time, Katie said.

Jenna didn't get bail, so we wouldn't be seeing her for at least 6 months. That's how long they said the trial would take to arrange, what with witnesses and so on. I never did find out what happened to the other poor souls who were locked up with Emily, but I do know there were a whole lot of other prosecutions going on at the same time.

A week passed. I went back to work. I kept my job, just about, but I don't think there will be any promotions in the pipeline for a decade or so. My boss was less than impressed. Emily's boss was pretty good about the whole thing as it turned out. He found out about the trial through the things in the paper, and made a special case to his directors and they offered Emily another chance to train with them. She didn't.

Three more weeks passed, and although there wasn't a single day I didn't wake up thinking about her, or a single night when she wasn't the last thing on my mind, she never called or contacted me. My heart ached so much I thought I was actually going to have a real heart attack. Surely no human being could suffer like this and still be healthy?

Effy came round regularly, but she was still loved up with Jenny and watching the, admittedly toned down for my benefit, PDA's was hard on me, and she knew that. Jenny started to stay away when Effy visited. I felt guilty about it, but even after a month, it was still raw. I ghost walked through my days. Up, breakfast on a banana, coffee and then throw myself into my job. Home at 6, shower, scruffy pink onesy, and a night in front of the TV. Game shows, talk shows, soaps, mini series...you name it, I sat looking with unseeing eyes as the stupid, the desperate and the talentless paraded across the screen. My mind wouldn't let me take it in. Emily...Emily...Emily.., it said monotonously. I felt like shit every night. Sleeping tablets made the ache dull for a few hours but it never really went away. Finally Effy tired of my self absorption and melancholy and took me out for a night with 'the girls' It was a disaster of course. The merest flash of dark brown hair or eyes and my own would tear up. I was putting a downer on the night for the others, and even the promise of an extra strong E couldn't break me out of my mood. I left early, despite Effys pleas, and retreated to cuddle my pillow at home, looking bleakly out at the winter sky as it lightened towards dawn.

I woke up the next day, more tired than I had gone to bed. I stretched my back as I lay there, ironing out the kinks from the fitful sleep I had endured. At least it was Saturday, I told myself. No work. No curious glances from workmates.

Showered and wearing just my white towelling dressing gown, I sat at the breakfast table, deciding between the exciting options of corn flakes or cheerios. As I picked up the packet of cereal (cheerios won, by a short head) I heard a key in the lock. Fucking Effy, I thought, just leave me alone to wallow today...please?

The kitchen door opened and I sat there with the packet in my hand, mouth open like a goldfish plugged into the mains. Emily.

"Hi" she said

"Hi" I said. What the fuck?

"How are you?" I said, cursing my sudden inability to string more than 3 words together

"Better" she said flatly and I looked at her properly, now the shock had worn off a bit. She looked like microwaved shit, to be honest. Lank greasy hair, dark shadows under her eyes (matching my own, I thought grimly) and dressed in a plain denim pinafore dress over a dark blue tee shirt. No tights, and her legs looked blotchy and pale.

"Emily..." started, but she shook her head at me quickly. Oh right, I thought, Naomi doesn't get to finish a sentence yet again.

"Not now" she said, looking round the room as if searching for something.

"OK" I said softly" Would you like some coffee?"

She nodded, and shrugged off her over large yellow bag. I heard a thump when it hit the vinyl floor. Together with the rattle of several pill containers, and realised she must still be medicating heavily. Jesus, this was fucked.

I poured her a coffee the way I knew she liked it, hot, strong and with lots of cream and sugar. She sipped it, looking at me over the rim of the mug.

"Emily..." I tried again, but saw her wince, and stopped before I fucked it up even more. She obviously had something to say, so I waited.

"We're _not_ OK...I just want to make that clear Naomi" she said in a tone I hardly recognised. For once she sounded like her sister, and I felt my heart thump as I realised that.

"I need to stay here for a while" she said, looking past me to the window as if unable to hold my eyes.

"It's your place too Emily" I said "It always was ba..."

"_**Don't**_" she said bitterly. "Don't call me babe"

I swallowed hard. Why the fuck did she hate me? I love her for fucks sake!

"Emily" I said again, but this time when she opened her mouth to speak, I silenced her with a gesture. "This is _me_... _**Naomi?**_ I fucking love you. Always have, always will. I never stopped looking for you. Never stopped hoping I'd find you. This is your _home_, here with me. We love each other. We've always loved each other, from the very first time we met. Don't _ever_ forget that, whatever that fucked up place tried to force you to believe. If you need time to get over it, thats OK. I know. You've had a terrible time, and I can't even begin to understand how awful it was. But I _can_ try to make it better...Just let me try?"

She shook her head firmly, and the sinking feeling in my stomach lurched again.

"You have no fucking idea" she hissed "No idea at all. That last week was beyond hell for me. I waited for you...every night I _waited_, but you never came" Here eyes got a far away look as she remembered something, something unpleasant,

"Every fucking day...the '_counselling_', the brainwashing, the fucking forced isolation, the ..." Her eyes filled with tears, but she brushed them away angrily. "And then the nights Naomi. The nights were _so_ much worse"

I gulped down a sob. I thought I was beginning to understand her anger, her despair and it burned me like a hot iron.

"I'm so sorry Ems " I choked "So _so_ sorry"

"Sorry doesn't cut it..._babe_".. she spat "Sorry will never make this right ever again"

"Let me try" I begged, straight out crying now. I had nothing left to offer her, nothing I could say which would make this right. But this was Emily..._my_ Emily. I had to try, didn't I?

She stood up abruptly, spilling coffee over the table. We both ignored the thin rivulets of brown liquid which began to make their way over the edge, onto the cold floor.

"I fucked him" she said simply, and smirked nastily at my horrified expression.

"What...I mean who..._what_?" I said, holding a hand to my mouth as it hung open in disbelief.

"Freddie" she said "Multiple times actually. No one else was going to get me out, so I let him have what he wanted"

"N...No" I stuttered, she couldn't have.

"It's not so bad, once you get used to it, is it babe?" Again the word split from her lips like liquid poison. "Sucking his cock every night was a bit of a chore, but I kind of got used to the taste. He thought I was a quick learner actually, said I was quite good at it by the end. Maybe I should give it another try now I'm out. I'm sure there are plenty of guys who would let me practice some more"

Her smile hardened and I thought I might pass out from the sheer hate on her face. I felt sick, both from her words and the lurid images which flashed into my mind at the same time. I ran from the room and threw up my breakfast into the bathroom sink. Splashing water on my face and scrubbing it with a hand towel, I walked back into the kitchen to find her still standing where I had left her, now staring out of the window.

"So it's OK for me to stay here a while Naomi? Just till I get my shit sorted out. I can't stay at home, or with Katie any more...too many memories...too many questions" she said without turning to look at me.

"Why are you punishing me Emily" I said quietly "I've never done anything but love you"

"It's never enough Naoms...love" she said, turning to look at me at last. "Love is just a fucking illusion. Get over it"

I couldn't stand it any more. I had to touch her, to hug her, to maybe find some way of physically comforting her, despite the fact that she was going out of her way to hurt me. I grabbed her with both arms and held her tightly. I kissed the top of her head and held her face in my hands forcing her to look into my eyes.

"Hey" I said brokenly "Its me. Don't shut me out. I love you. More than life itself"

She smiled up at me, but it wasn't a fond smile. It was the sort of smile you reserve for lunatics and people with dementia. Patronising, fake.

"Oh...stupid me" she said "Of course...you want _this_"

She backed me up against the wall, roughly pushing my head back and biting my neck. I struggled, but she was right, I did want this, even if it meant nothing to her. I let her open my dressing gown and throw it onto the floor. She looked me up and down and licked her lips hungrily.

"Still looking good Campbell" she sneered and my despair reached new depths.

She kissed me hard, biting my lips until I tasted my own coppery blood and aggressively invading my mouth with her tongue. I moaned, half in want, half in misery as she pawed me roughly, grabbing my tits like an adolescent boy with his first date. She jammed her knee between my legs, forcing them open and soon her fingers were penetrating me without any care or love. I grimaced as she searched my dry folds for enough moisture to go deeper inside. Soon enough she was sawing two fingers in and out of me, using her thumb to rub my clit harder and harder. I tried to stop her, tried to say no, but she just stared at me impassively as she worked on me. I had never felt so used in my life. There was no way I would orgasm with her fucking me like this.

Finally, realising that I was now flat out sobbing, she stopped. For a brief moment, I thought I saw compassion in her dark eyes, but it swiftly went, replaced by that flinty hardness she wore from the moment she came in.

"Guess that's not what you want after all Naomi" she said, wiping her fingers on my stomach. "I'll have to get my fun elsewhere tonight then"

She spun round, away from me and picked up the heavy bag. Slinging over her shoulder and looking back.

"Spare bed still made up?" she said breezily, raising an eyebrow at me standing there, naked, with my hands covering my crutch pointlessly "You might want to get some clothes on though babe, we might get visitors. Then she left me standing there, sobbing and broken.

XXX

I know I shouldn't have. Effy told me I was crazy, offering to let me stay at her place. Katie called me a stupid cunt, but in a nicer way that usual, if thats possible.

"Why would you let that bitch use you like this Naomi?" she yelled at me when we met for a coffee "Helping her get through this is one thing, but she's fucking humiliating you over something you didn't even do!"

My mum just rolled her eyes, a Campbell trait I inherited and told me I needed to do something about the situation. I fucking knew that. But what? Emily was using the place like a squat. She never cooked or cleaned, just smoked and drank most of the time.. Avoided me whenever she could, oh, thats except when she went out at night and brought back randoms to fuck in her room. Forgot to tell you about that.

The first time she stumbled back into the flat at midnight, drunk, I heard her giggling in the hall and sighed. I was on the couch, not watching TV as usual. I got up and found a spare bowl in the kitchen. Emilys capacity for booze was considerable, given her size, but this wouldn't be the first time she had overestimated it and a handy bowl would save me clearing vomit from the carpet tomorrow. Then I heard another voice. Female. Great, I thought, she's brought someone back to sit in the lounge and play music with half the night. Bang goes any chance of sleep tonight. How right I was, but for different reasons.

Emilys head peeped between the door and the frame. She smirked at me, hiccuping as she spoke

"Got a friend with me Naoms" she said "Louise, Naomi, my flatmate, Naomi, Louise, my shag for tonight"

I went as cold as ice as another head appeared at the door. Short spiky fair hair, with red streaks in it, studs in her nose and ears, giggling at Emilys description of her.

"Sorry" she slurred "I just thought the back wall of a club was a bit too public. We'll try to be _quiet_! Her mouth twisted in what I took for sarcasm.

I stared at Emily as she dared me with her eyes to either lose my temper or burst into tears. I did neither. I was so shocked, I just blinked at her and stayed silent.

"Night Naoms" Emily said brightly before tugging the other skank away from the door. I heard more whispers and giggling and then the spare room door banged shut.

The next two hours were torture for me, of course. I turned up the TV and tried to forget what was going on next door, but it was obvious that Emily wasn't 'trying to be quiet' as her new friend had promised. When you sleep with someone for over 3 years, you know all the little cries and moans they make when their being pleasured. Night after night you learn little things about each other, What touches, what pressure and what pretty patterns you can use on their skin to make them lose control. No one on this earth should be forced to listen to the love of their life reliving those moments in someone else arms. No one. Emily's body was as familiar to me as my own, so every new groan or cry meant something special to me. It was like someone was following a route on a familar map. This sound meant she was being penetrated with stiff fingers, that sound meant the girl was now going down on her...you get the picture. I very nearly went mad that night.

When it finally quietened, I slunk off to bed and cried quietly into my pillow. The next morning, Louise was gone, and I ate a lonely breakfast as Emily slept off last nights excesses. Work that day was a blur of paper, phone calls and abject misery. Betrayal is one thing, humiliation was another.

And so it went on. Effy reported back to me for a few weekends, when she spotted Emily in town, but I asked her to stop. It was too painful. I had all the evidence I needed, right back at my own apartment. She bought someone back at least once a week, and I endured it. I know, I'm a fucking coward. I know it, but what else can I do.

In the end it was Katie who brought it to a head. She had come round to "Sort your fucking saddo lezzer arse out" as she charmingly put it. I'm, guessing that her and Eff had had a conversation (they had agreed on an armed truce months before) and that KFF was detailed to straighten things out.

She stayed with me that evening, drinking white wine and taking the piss out of X Factor contestants. But we both knew why she was there. Emily was out on the town again, and the odds were she would be back sometime with a random. Never the same one twice, but always a type. Always blonde, always taller than her, and usually with blue eyes. I think we all knew what she was trying to say with that choice of fuck buddies, don't we?

I heard the front door bang at about 1 am. Katie and I had gone to sleep, her with her feet on my lap, after watching Paranormal Activity. I was usually scared of that film, but I was a fuck sight more scared of what was going to happen when Emily showed up. I was right.

Giggling and the sounds of wet kissing came from the dark hallway outside. I saw Katie stir, and the look I saw in her eyes was more scary than any fucking demon...

She lifted her feet off me, stood up and straightened her skirt

"She'll come in here to punish you a bit before taking that slag to bed, yeah?" she asked. Oh Katie, I thought, never change. You know what's going through Emily's mind even before she does it.

"Usually" I nodded. "She likes to know I'm good and humiliated first before giving me the benefit of the extended porno soundtrack"

"Not tonight" she said grimly, walking to the door and standing behind it. Someone was in for a surprise, I thought.

The door creaked open and a drunken Emily stood there swaying.

"Naoms!" she shouted "Still up babes? You must love hearing me screw. Why don't you come in and watch this time. Heather doesn't mind, do you honey? She's quite the exhibitionist"

Another face appeared out of the gloom, lipstick smudged and her top buttoned up wrongly. Obviously the taxi driver who brought them here had benefited from a free lesbian show. I bet he was in a lay-by already, working off his frustration into a Kleenex.

"Hi" The girl said, trying to steady herself against the door "You must be Naomi, Emily's _flatmate_" She pressed her finger to her lips and stage-shushed as Emily grabbed her arse from behind "Be good Ems" she laughed "I'll reward you for your patience in a minute"

Emily laughed dirtily and grabbed her again

"No need for quiet babes" she grinned "Naomi quite likes the soundtrack, don't you hun? Reminds you of what you're missing, these lonely nights" Her eyes narrowed and she smirked again. "Night then" she said, turning to go.

"Aren't you going to say goodnight to your sister babe?" the voice from behind the door said. I saw Emilys face spin round and gaze stupidly into the room.

Katie stepped out from behind the door and stepped closer

"Nothing to say Ems?" she hissed and I saw all the self assurance drain from Emilys body in one second. Years of conditioning were being revived here.

Katie looked just once at the random, not even turning to face her properly.

"You can pretty much fuck off now babes" she said flatly "Unless you want me to rearrange your face?"

The threat was enough. The girls face was a picture. KFF in fighting mode was more than a match for anyone on this earth, other than Effy Stonem, so it was no contest. She tried to grab Emilys arm, asking her for a number, but Emily shook her head, still staring at Katie like she was a lion on the hunt. The front door closed quietly, much quieter than it had done when our two Juliet's had come in minutes before. It wasn't just the taxi driver who would have to depend on his right hand tonight then.

As the door closed, Emily opened her mouth to speak. I'm guessing that whatever illegal substances she had taken tonight were rapidly losing their effect. She looked at Katie blankly, waiting for the storm to start.

"In" Katie said, opening the door wider. Emily complied "Sit" Katie said, and again Emily did as she was told, sitting on the couch, about as far from me as it is physically possible on a two seater.

"You're probably thinking that I'm gonna slap you around a bit Emily" Katie growled "But I'm not. You're probably also thinking that I'm gonna shout at you a lot. Wrong again"

"But you _are_ going to listen to me. And I mean _listen_, not stare off into the distance and zone me out...because if you do...all bets are off. I have no problem kicking the shit out of you here and now, gettit?"

Emily nodded sullenly. Not even glancing my way once. I felt like a spectator at a caged boxing match.

"One" Katie began "Why the _fuck_ Naomi thought you were worth saving from yourself is fucking beyond me. I don't even know you any more. Two, this has to stop, and by _this_ I mean punishing her. You fuck any skank you want Emily. If loveless fucks with randoms is now your special hobby, fine. Get Chlamydia, get fucking Syphilis, I don't really care any more. As a sister, you're dead to me. Three. Get the fuck out of Naomi's life..and I mean for good. I have no idea why she offered you a roof over your head, when no one else would. Get the fuck over yourself. You had a bad experience, I get that. So you had to fuck a nasty bastard nightly...for a week... to try to get out of that place. For your information, hun, about a million women every Saturday night endure a half hour under a sweaty man while they worry about the bedroom ceiling, and they have to do it all over again next Saturday, for the next 29 fucking years. You ain't unique. You're just fucking wallowing in it. And Four. If I find out that you have come back, I'll break my promise, along with that pretty face. See how many women want to get into your knickers when your nose is flat as a retired boxers"

Katie drew breath and looked at Emily, this time without the scowl.

"For your information, and thumbscrews and medieval torture wouldn't get this statement from me again, Naomi Campbell is the kindest, most loving person I have ever met. Meeting her was about the luckiest thing that ever happened to you Emily Fitch. I watched her just about die from grief when you didn't turn up at the wedding, I watched her cry herself to sleep night over and over again. I saw what she was prepared to put into finding you. She risked her job, her home, and her physical safety to get you out of there. Read my lips. '_She. Loves. You'_ Though fuck knows why. If you pulled any of this shit with any other person in the known universe, they would have kicked your sorry arse into the gutter where it belongs weeks ago. If you honestly don't want her, fine. Let her _go_. Stop using her as your crutch and your personal whipping girl. Move out, fuck anyone you like, stand on your own feet. But if you do, just remember this one last thing. If you ever come back, I will rearrange your face into a shape even our father won't recognise. _Leave_ _her_ _alone_..."

Emily sat through it all, face ashen and set. She didn't try to interrupt, didn't try to argue. Just sat there and took it.

Katie regarded her for a long moment before speaking again.

"I have no idea if there is anything left of the sweet little Emily Fitch we knew. Maybe there is deep inside. You've had all your chances. Go to bed. If you've gone in the morning, together with all your shit, when we get up, I'll know that there's no saving you. You're on your own. But it's a lonely life Emily, being _totally_ alone. Think long and hard about it before you decide. Now fuck off, there a good girl. I need to speak to my friend"

Emily stood stiffly and went out of the room. I heard her door click as she locked it. There was silence again.

"Right" Katie said to me "I can't believe I'm actually saying this Campbell, but lead me to your bedroom, I'm fucking knackered"

There really wasn't anything left to say. I was still shell shocked at the Chinese New Year display I had just witnessed. Katie Fucking Fitch in controlled anger mode was fucking awesome. But I tried.

"That was..." I said incoherently "epic. I may just have fallen in love with you Katie. Sure you won't change your mind about shagging me?"

She chuckled deep in her throat "In your dreams Campbell...in your _fucking_ dreams"

We went to bed. What tomorrow would bring, who knew?

XXX

**Well guys, what do you think? It was _very_ hard to write, but satisfying. 7,500 words no less! Anyone care to guess or suggest where this ends. I'm open to persuasion. I'm thinking the next chapter will be the last, or maybe last but one. I have to carry on with 'Road' and thats going to be another 20 chapters or so. Reviews, criticism, suggestions?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N**

**So...some people loved it, some people hated it, and some people were just intrigued as to why I did it. Last chapter extreme angst, that is.**

**Well, like I said, it came to me, and when you write, whatever you feel has a habit of appearing in the story. I quite liked what I did, even if it was harsh and cruel, but unlike a certain talentless Skins writer (and that's the only similarity we share...Jess) I won't hurt either of them fatally. Not gonna happen, so put that thought out of your minds. Naomily is almost primeval in its power, and I have no way of putting into words a story deliberately plotting either of their deaths.**

**And so, I now have to fix this...or fix it as much as it can be fixed in an imperfect world. Still worried...? Good. I would hate to be that predictable!**

**For anyone who asked about 'Room with a View' all I can say is that the lovely FaithSky is poorly at the moment, and can't contribute regularly to the story. So I have decided to stop. I need to work to a schedule, its just the way I roll, and it's kinda difficult writing one half of a story without a weekly timetable for the other half. Just doesn't work, for me anyway. Wish her well. She's amazing, as anyone who's read her stuff will tell you. Thanks again for the awesome reviews. I read every one, usually more than once, so thanks!**

Naomi

When I woke up the next morning, it was well after 11 on a grey and wet morning. Katie was still sleeping beside me, on her back, mouth slightly open. She looked very sweet lying there, relaxed and without the fuck off attitude she carried with her like a suit of armour. I had become very fond of her lately, in a non sexual BFF kind of way. She was good for me because she was sort of my shield against nasty things. People always thought, because of the sarcasm and aloofness I had as a teenager, that I was as hard as she was, but it was all smoke and mirrors with me. My mum knew me, Emily _used_ to know me, and Effy, of course, saw into my very soul, but not many others dug deep enough to find the real Naomi Campbell.

When the word 'Emily' went through my mind, I had to physically stop myself jumping up and rushing into the hallway to check her room. I hadn't actually heard her leave, but I was sure she would have. Katie was right, she was lost to us. Lost in a spinning vortex of self loathing, mistrust and bitterness. I would never be able to forget, even if I could eventually forgive, the betrayals and the spitefulness with which she had treated me, but I still loved her with all my heart. Katie was right about something else. Somewhere, buried inside Emily was that sweet, trusting soul who held hands with me in the Cineplus all those years ago and blushed when I kissed her, I just _knew_ it. It might be deep down, under the layers of bluster and the brittle self destructive shell she now wore, but I was sure it was there. Trouble is, I doubted _she_ even knew where to find it any more.

I sighed and blinked away the first tear of the day. Since I had been left on the steps of the Register Office months ago, I never started a day without at least a few tears over her. I had begun to forget what genuine happiness was. I guess today would tell me whether it would ever be my friend and companion again.

Katie stirred beside me, opening one eye and regarding at me silently. She groaned and stretched her arms over her head, touching the headboard with the tips of her fingers. Which had the inevitable effect of highlighting those spectacular tits, straining against the thin cotton of her tee. I gulped and tried hard not to perv quite so brazenly, but, of course, she saw where my eyes were fixed.

Without lowering her hands, she looked at me sideways in a mock serious way and said.

"Jesus Naomi, do your morning thoughts _ever_ rise above your knickers?"

I chanced one last hungry look at the wondrous sight of Katie Fitch's unfettered tits then looked up at her amused brown eyes.

"What's a healthy, and sexually deprived 23 year old lesbian supposed to do Katie, when she wakes up with a hot semi naked girl next to her in bed?"

She winced and then scowled at me. Katie Fucking Fitch, back in the house...

"You did **not** say that Campbell. Tell me you did **not** say that?"

I couldn't resist. I rarely could when she was so ripe for teasing, even though I was just putting off the inevitable and depressing reality of finding Emily gone from my life forever.

"Just one tiny squeeze Katie. I swear that will get me through a dozen lonely nights, when you've gone home" I smirked, going back to ogling her tits openly again..

"If it will shut you up Campbell...go ahead, Just one squeeze, and then you can fuck off and get me a coffee. But save the masturbatory fantasies for when I've actually left the building. I value my eyesight"

My eyes widened stupidly and I think I actually gasped out loud.

"Really?" I said in a croak.

"You've got ten seconds...9...8..." she said closing her eyes.

Fuck it, I thought. This horny lesbian has been celibate for months. Just one squeeze then?

I reached over and palmed her firm breast in my hand, gently applying pressure. I could feel her nipple harden instantly. God she had great tits. I chanced another squeeze and saw her lips part and her tongue moisten them as my finger brushed her nipple. In the rush of desire I felt, my sex clenched almost painfully between my legs. I _seriously_ needed to get myself off this week. It had been weeks since I had even thought about it. I reached over and squeezed the other full breast, just because I could and I swear a tiny groan passed her lips. It was momentary and almost inaudible, but it was definitely a Katie groan. The heat between my legs increased and I reached down, under the quilt, searching for the hem of her top. Bad move. Her eyes flew open and she stared at me with eyes that suddenly held more fear than anger. Sitting bolt upright, she brushed my hands away. I stared at her flushed face and hard nipples like I was hypnotised. Jesus, did I just feel up Katie Fitch?

"Right" she said hoarsely, more to herself than me I think "Thats enough of that fuckery. No more shared beds Campbell, else I'll end up a full time muff muncher like you"

I smiled a small sad smile at her obvious mixed emotions over _that_ particular prospect and tried to ease the palpable tension in the air.

"You should try giving in Katie, just one time, Maybe not with your sisters ex, but you were enjoying that _far_ too much for a straight girl...I'm just saying..."

"Fuck _Off_!" were the words left on the air as she vaulted out of bed and stalked into the en-suite. The door clicked firmly behind her. I collapsed back onto the bed and sighed again. Not only did I now have to get up and deal with the empty bedroom down the hall, but now, when Katie finally _did_ leave, I had an urgent appointment with my battery powered best friend in the bedside cabinet. Oh well, at least I had another memory to use, instead of torturing myself with old Emily fantasies. Fantasies which were now spoiled forever by flashes of random women fucking her in the room next door. I sighed again. Life, its a fucker all round.

XXX

Ten minutes later, with Katie getting dressed and gone without another word, and me in the bathroom, taking far too long to shower and clean my teeth, the time came to face real life again. I forgot about Katies magnetic tits and my battery powered helper. Time to clear the mess from Emily's old room and erase her permanently from my life. I threw on an old grey Uni tee and a fresh pair of black trackies. I didn't bother with underwear. By the time I had cleared up weeks of empty glasses, roaches, discarded clothes and other detritus, I would need another shower anyway. Besides, I had no doubt I would be crying again well before the room was habitable again, so what was the point?

I stood outside the door for a long moment, steeling myself for the inevitable shock of the empty room. Finally, after giving myself a long talking to, I gripped the handle and opened the door.

"Well, fuck me with a lubricated loofah" were my exact words, I think. I don't know where the hell that came from. Probably one of Cook's charming sayings from 6th form. Whatever. It was the shock, you see.

In front of me was a room which had been almost forensically cleaned from top to bottom. The curtains were open, and the window ajar, letting cool October air filter in. The wardrobe door was closed, the chest of drawers too. No clothes or underwear littered the floor or lampshades. No glasses covered the floor or cupboard tops. No full ashtrays, no stray magazines, no post it notes with random phone numbers scrawled in lipstick, no dressing table mirror filled with spit stuck photo's, no shoes, no mobile phones, nothing. Just a clean and freshly polished guest room.

Just one thing spoiled, if thats the right word, the image of a room ready for immediate occupation. On the freshly made bed sat a lone figure. Staring at me through red rimmed and puffy eyes. Emily.

"Naomi..." she said

XXXX

**Such a _fucking_ tease me... Will Naomi tell her to get to fuck? Will Emily just say goodbye and leave. Can she ever be forgiven? **

**Just a little filler chapter, because I'm such a nice girl! I love cliff hangers, but maybe thats because I actually know what's going to happen next... lol.**

**Just be sure that instant forgiveness is NOT on the horizon. They have a long and sometimes painful road to travel yet. Is the future certain for Naomily? Again no. But who knows? Review, my lovely readers. You make me smile every day!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**

**Well, I hope you guys are still around and waiting patiently for an update! I have had a hard week, so its been difficult to find time, but here goes, another chapter. I have a day off work this week, so I have promised myself that I will churn out another monster chapter later. This one is shorter, but hopefully you will still enjoy (?) it.**

**I don't own Skins...because, well you know...I don't kill romances with cancer and stuff.**

Naomi

I didn't move or speak. I was still in shock that the room was apparently habitable again, but the sight of Emily, sitting fully dressed in last nights clothes, on the edge of the newly made up bed, with her big brown eyes staring at me, was enough to render me speechless. I was expecting many things when I opened the door. A wrecked room, lipstick scrawled insults on the mirror, window smashed...you get the picture. But instead I got this. A clinically clean room (how had she done that so silently last night?) and a dressed and contrite Emily looking up at me.

"Can we talk?" she said simply. I noticed her voice was even huskier than usual. Judging by the red rimmed, puffy eyes, someone had been doing some crying too. My inner devil hissed at me spitefully 'Not as much crying as she made you do, Naomi' it said.

Right.

I folded my arms, staying at the door, where I felt safer to be honest, and raised an eyebrow at her. No one said this had to be easy, did they?

"Well?" I said flatly "Talk?"

"I'm not going to say sorry" she began, and then raised her hand when I began to interrupt. "No wait" she said quietly.

"I'm not gonna say sorry, because that would be a pathetic attempt to cover over what I've done to you...what I've been like these past weeks"

I stared at her levelly.

"I _AM_ sorry." she said, looking down at her hands and then back up at me. "But that's not what you want to hear, is it Naomi?...you want a why, not a what "

I studied her for a long moment. Part of me wanted to jump straight into a long and bitter rant at her, but really, what would be the point? Nothing she or I said in the next few minutes would change a thing she had done, or even begin to repair the damage she had wreaked. It was a tiny, flickering beginning, that was all. I nodded at her, giving her permission to carry on.

"I'm not ready to tell you about what happened to me in that last week in there. There is horrible stuff that I am avoiding even reminding myself about, so I'm not going to start spouting psycho babble shit about post traumatic stress, or fucking Stockholm Syndrome. Even the police psych's had the sense to leave _that_ box unopened until Christmas. But I punished horribly you...I'm _still_ punishing you... over something you didn't do, and for that I am... truly sorry"

She took a deep breath and carried on.

"When you didn't come for me after I thought you and Katie were just about to rescue me, I lost the little bit of hope I had. Freddie told me you had just given up, and gone back home. My phone didn't work any more...I don't know why...but I was cut off, isolated and the 'treatment' began to get harsher and more relentless every day. He came to me every night that week. After I had been ranted and shouted at, given ice cold baths and...other... 'stuff' for 8 hours straight by the animals that ran the place...he came to me in my room and brought me bars of chocolate and...I dunno... companionship? He was the closest thing to a normal human being I spoke to for days on end. I thought I was going to be in there for ever, and I...I just... broke"

I stared at her again. I was nowhere near forgiveness, but I started to realise that there was another story to be told here. I just wasn't gonna get it today.

"So when he offered again to help get me out of there...to _really_ get me out of there this time...for a price...I thought, why not? Ten minutes unpleasantness, no worse than lots of girls have to endure every Saturday night...as my lovely sister reminded me last night so graphically...and I would be out and free. So I let him. And I let him again the next night, and the next. By the end of the week, he had stopped even bothering to tell me how he was going to get me out of there. I gradually realised that Freddie wasn't there to help me, but himself. He would turn up, get me to suck him hard and then fuck me for fifteen minutes, without talking, or even undressing. When he'd finished, he'd just smile, zip himself up and go. It was when I saw him talking to a pretty new girl on the Saturday morning that I realised that Freddie wasn't the solution to my problem, he was part of it. How could I have been so stupid? Obviously he was treating us girls as perks of the job. How could he go wrong? If he was caught shagging one of us, it would just be put down to the conversion. I mean, how could we be gay if we were letting a random guy fuck us nightly? Perfect world for people like Freddie"

I swallowed a small sob. My brain didn't want to believe what my ears were telling it, but I could see it was true. Big tears filled her eyes and ran unchecked down her cheeks. My hatred for the cunt who had basically serial raped her was only exceeded by my nausea at how casually she described her complete sexual humiliation

"But you know _now_ I was always there for you Emily" I said in a voice that cracked at the end of the sentence "I waited every night, in the woods, for him to turn up and let us pay him the £1000 he wanted, so we could get you out. I _wanted_ to help you..." I finished pathetically.

"But you didn't...did you...hun?" she said bitterly, looking down at her hands as they laid on her lap. "I waited too...but I gave up in the end, because you weren't there"

"So when my Dad finally got me out, I lost it completely. My mum was in prison, because of me. My girlfriend had abandoned me, along with my sister, and I felt used and alone...so completely alone. I decided, when the head doctors and police had finished with me, to come here and make you suffer every day for what I had gone through"

"Well, you certainly managed that Emily" I said bleakly "Watching the love of my life shut me out completely...then wreck herself with drugs and alcohol...not to mention bringing skanks back here every Friday night to fuck under my nose...That'll certainly do it"

She nodded silently and looked up at me again

"I know you'll never, _ever_ forgive me for what I've done to you Naomi" she said in a hollow, not Emily voice "And I don't expect you to. I've blown it. I know that. But even with the terrible stuff I've done to you, I still need you in my life, even if its just as my only friend. I went to the front door to leave here for good a dozen times last night. Your door key is in an envelope over there" she nodded in the direction of the freshly cleared dressing table "But I just couldn't do it. I know I don't deserve your pity, let alone your love, but I knew if I did leave, that would be it. No Katie, no mum and most importantly, no Naomi. They would have found me in a gutter in 3 months or less, dead from drugs or drink. I knew that, and I couldn't do it. Not because I don't deserve that end, but because I knew it would kill you too. I know it sounds like I suddenly discovered that you still care for me, and I shouldn't presume that...I understand, but I could see, even last night, when Katie was reading me the riot act, that you still care about me. Even if it's just as a... friend?"

She stopped then and sobbed quietly into her hands for a few seconds. My own tears were streaming down my face. Jesus, how fucked up was this?

"Emily" I said, when I could trust my voice not to break "Listen to me"

She looked up from the bed, breath catching in her throat as she cried quietly

"You will never just be a friend to me. I wish I could just turn it off and get on with my life, but loves not like that...is it? But I can't pretend to forgive you...certainly not yet, and I will _never_ forget those horrible lonely nights, listening to you fucking another girl in the room next to _our_ room. Listening to you both moaning for hours on end...making love to someone who isn't _me_. ...Torturing _me_**. **The person who has only ever loved you, only ever wanted to be with you...only ever needed you...not some random **slut**"

I couldn't help the bitterness with which I said that last word.

"I can't even go there at the moment. It's too painful..too raw" I croaked

I swallowed down a treacherous sob. I had to get this out now.

"So, I'll be your friend Emily. You can stay here... live here, for now. For the time being the introduction you gave your last few 'partners' when you brought them back will have to be a fact. We're flatmates. Pure and simple. I'll live my life. You live yours. We share the apartment, but not our lives. Just some ground rules first. No trashing the place. No Class A drugs and _definitely_ no night-time visitors. I'm not having my nose rubbed in it ever again. If you want to get hammered, coked up and finger fucked by a nameless random against a wall, you'll have to find somewhere else to do it, OK?"

She looked at me with deep sorrow in those expressive eyes, and I felt myself weakening just seeing it, but I went on determinedly.

"If you can live with those rules. We're OK...at least for a bit"

"Naomi?" she said quietly

"What?" I said, harder than I intended

"Thats over...all that...stuff. I wanted to punish you...but all I ended up doing was punishing myself. I'll get a part time job, pay my way and try to get back into my Open Uni studies OK? I have a lot to prove to you. But I want to. No more drugs, or booze, and the one night stands end now"

I sighed deeply. It was so hard to stay angry with her, even if she had taken my still beating heart from my chest and stamped on it so gleefully. You can't fool yourself for too long. I still loved her with all my heart, I knew that, but I didn't like her very much at the moment. I suddenly realised that two opposing things were perfectly possible in this fucked up world.

"Right.." I said finally "I have to go out. Get some shopping and stuff. You'll be OK on your own?"

"Yeah" Emily said sadly " I'll be here when you get back"

I turned to go and heard her whisper something as I did. I span back and said quickly 'What?"

"I said I still love you Naomi" she said in a small voice, looking anywhere but at me.

I felt my face pale as I looked into her eyes and saw the truth of that statement in them. But I didn't need that, not here, not now, not from her.

"Don't lie" I said simply, and left.

The small sob that sounded as I closed the door gave me another two conflicting feelings. I was getting used to that now, and I shrugged to myself as I left the flat, purse in hand. I had no idea if things would ever be repaired, but I sure as hell wasn't going to cave in easily...if at all.

Ten minutes later I was in the 24 hour grocers on the main road. This time when the pretty, doe eyed Asian girl Seeta smiled shyly when she gave me my change, I gave her a dirty wink in return. She had been giving me sly looks and smiles for weeks now and I had never before returned anything more than a curt nod. She was beautiful and dark skinned and quite obviously gay. Her Dad ran the shop with a rod of iron, so I guess it would never go any further than flirting, but what the hell...I'm single again, huh?

**OK that's it for this little filler chapter. More this week, when Naomi might get very 'friendly' with Seeta, Emily will be baking humble pie for a while yet, and Katie has a surprising (not to us) epiphany. Reviews, comments and suggestions welcome, if not craved!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Another chapter of Naomily 'goodness' then guys. But first, as they say on American TV...a word from our sponsors. As you know already, I am as much of a review whore as any of my more successful and creative writer contemporaries are. So I love that some of my readers take the time to let me know what they think about my scribbles. But sometimes you get odd ones. An illustration?**

**"_I think I know where this is going next...Katie and Naomi end up together... urgh, worst idea ever"_**

**Now, quite apart from the fact that _I_ don't even know, when I sit down to write, what the hell I'm going to say until I get going, its a little bit presumptuous of an anonymous reviewer to assume the worst, yeah? So, just for '_random readers_' benefit, good or bad idea, its my story, so if I _do_ decide to get Naomi and Katie naked and moaning together (highly unlikely BTW) I'll give you plenty of advance warning so you can find something better to read! You _could_ always create an account and engage in conversation with me if you don't like where the story is going. I like feedback, and I like constructive criticism. I love it best when it comes from someone like VioletW or Crevette or Marsup's, coz they're talented, supportive and just really good guys ?**

**Apart from that little personal gripe, I'm cool with criticism lol.. (Fans face and tells self to calm the fuck down)**

**So...on with the story. And its five weeks later.**

Naomi

92,93,94,95,96,97,98,99,100...

I sat up and held my knees in my hands. My stomach burned and my heart raced as I tried to slow my breathing. Morning exercise had never been my thing, but since Emily and I had settled into this extended and uneasy truce, I had deliberately given myself this masochistic fitness routine to try to avoid lying in bed every morning, thinking sadly about the girl in the next bedroom. The one who still cried herself to sleep most nights. The one who looks at me with big remorseful eyes when I get dressed to go out with my friends at night for a drink. The girl who never goes out at night herself, who just gets up at 7, works an early shift at the local market, selling junk jewellery to spray tanned skanks and then comes back, cooks me an evening meal before retreating to her bedroom and plays sad songs quietly until I come home from my nights out, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober. The girl who waits for me to collapse onto my...our bed before turning off her ipod and light. That girl.

The girl who reminds me every day what I have been missing, with her beautiful brown eyes and shy smile. The girl who's sins I can't seem to forgive, let alone forget, no matter how hard I try.

That girl.

We talk politely. we smile at each other and we make trite, meaningless conversation over morning cornflakes and evening meals. But although she's physically closer to me than she has been for months, emotionally we are galaxies apart. Not that I haven't tried to deepen our 'chats'. But she seems closed off, vacant... it scares the shit out of me. If thats even possible, I feel worse than I did when she was moaning noisily under a random fuck. Well... maybe not.

So we do our little dance. We talk, we non communicate. Then I go on with my day, and she goes on with hers. I get the feeling she's waiting for something. Fuck knows what. Maybe she thinks I'm like a dormant volcano, just waiting for the right moment to erupt. Maybe she would prefer that to this excruciating pas de deux. I dunno. But it creeps the fuck out of me. She's gone from sweet, loving Emily, through drunk and wasted 'fuck anyone with a cunt' Emily, into this...empty shell, with the person I fell in love with and thought I would grow old with, buried a mile down inside it.

So tonight, I'm going to try to break this brittle charade into shattered fragments. This is no life for either of us. I waited until after dinner, eaten in awkward silence as always, broken only by banal requests for salt and pepper. She got up, then ducked her head like she was avoiding shrapnel and made for 'her' room.

"Emily" I said quickly, as she walked away from me.

"Yes?" She said quietly, without turning round, probably expecting a brief goodnight from me.

"When was the last time anyone washed your hair" I said in a low voice. Such a simple, anodyne question. But it was loaded like a 12 bore shotgun, and we both knew it. Back in the days when Emily and I were totally and completely smitten with each other. Before Jennas brutal criminality, the emergence of '_Emily_-_slut_' and long, awkward silences, washing her hair had had connotations we both got _very_ excited about. I would run a bath, and fill the room with coloured candles and fragrance. She would come in, wearing just her thick towelling dressing gown. She would drop it onto the bathroom floor before stepping into the bath bubbles. I would strip naked too, and kneel by the bath, first palming expensive shampoo into her thick lustrous locks, massaging it in, before eventually cascading fresh, warm water over her head over and over again, rinsing it through. When it was clean, I would spend minutes running my fingers through her wet hair, making her coo with pleasure as I did. Some people might call it hair-washing, we knew it was really extended foreplay. I always ended up naked in the tub with her, spooning her back and soon enough my sly caresses would turn to wet kisses on her neck, just under her ear, and my busy fingers would end up between her legs. Some of the most mind-blowing sex we ever had was in that bath. Emily knew what my innocent question meant as well as I did, and it wasn't about personal hygiene.

She looked back at me with a mixture of shy hope and fear in her big beautiful eyes.

"Really?" She said eventually.

"I think so...I think it's time" I said " Ten minutes?"

Emily nodded happily and went into her bedroom, closing the door.

Ten minutes, a few gallons of filtered warm water, just this side of uncomfortably hot...the way someone not a million miles from where I was kneeling liked it, and a sprinkle of that stupidly expensive bubble bath my mother bought me in Harrods last Christmas and I stood looking at myself in the smoky sepia mirror tiles over the bath. I took a deep breath as I heard the spare bedroom door click. She stood in the doorway quietly, like someone who was about to have a cruel trick played on her, but went along with it anyway, because she knew no other way of dealing with it. She had her white towelling robe on, just like always, and I swallowed hard as I looked at her, knowing she was naked underneath. but then so was I, underneath my oversized tee. and she knew that too. it wasn't only the water that was overheated tonight.

I nodded towards the corner bath, mentally thanking the landlord for being imaginative enough to install it. Room for two, as it were. she stepped towards the bath and just as she got to it, shrugged the robe off her shoulders onto the carpeted floor. I tried hard not to, but my gasp was all too audible. Not that seeing Emily naked wasn't always a gasp inducing sight, but now mixed with her nudity was the sudden, shocking realisation that she had lost a shed load of weight recently. She had never been overweight, but the healthy Fitch appetite she had always had, ensuring her body was smooth and curvy in all the right places seemed to have deserted her. Now her hip bones were clearly visible under that creamy skin, and I could actually count her ribs. Fucking hell, she made Effy Stonem look plump. With a sudden rush of guilt, I understood that our situation...the loneliness and self doubt... was visibly wasting her away before my unseeing eyes. I swallowed the words that threatened to gush out, and looked away until she was immersed in the hot water and bubbles.

I began the ritual, spraying water over her head as she hugged her knees. Then the shampoo, turning her hair pink and slick. I massaged her scalp. Knowing with the certainty of a lover how she enjoyed this pampering. I used my fingers to soap and rinse, taking my time, until her hair was clear of shampoo, and the water ran clear. There was a pause as I used my hands to drain the last of the shower water from her long hair and teased its long strands straight. This was it. The time that I always got in with her...could I do it. Could I forgive her long enough to build a tiny, shaky bridge between our wounded souls?

I could, it turned out. She looked steadily at our reflections in the sepia mirror tiled wall at the end of the bath as I stood and stripped off my tee. I saw her eyes widen as she took in the improved Campbell body. All those sit ups and press ups were having an effect and I knew I looked as good as I had ever been naked.

I slipped in behind her, trembling slightly at the sensation of her slick naked skin against me. My legs stretched out either side of her and I pressed my upper body against her back. This time Emily shuddered, and I knew it wasn't from the cooling water. I could feel my own nipples harden quickly at the contact and smoothness of her soft skin. She took a deep breath and whispered

"Is this what you really want, Naomi?"

I didn't trust myself to answer that. Maybe it was, maybe not. But it was what we both _needed_. Contact.

So I began our silent, intimate routine. I pulled her hair gently from the side of her neck, letting it lay on her other shoulder and kissed her skin softly. She let out a small, helpless moan. I nipped her skin between my teeth, then used my tongue to run a slow wavy line up her neck until it teased her under her right ear. She shivered and gripped my other hand, which was holding her waist tightly. Her breathing was faster, more ragged already.

Pulling my trapped hand away from her grip, I slid it up her body until I was palming her small breast. I squeezed gently and felt her body begin to tense against me. I found her nipple and circled it slowly with wet fingers, feeling it harden. She moaned again as I pulled at it slightly harder. I used my mouth to lick and suck at her neck and shoulders all the while my hand was working on her. I could feel her hips starting to move as the desire for me to move my hand... lower increased. But I wasn't in any hurry. It had been months since I touched her like this, and my mind was screaming at me to make it last.

Soon she was panting and writhing and starting to beg me to do more, quicker, harder. The way she always did at this point. For a few glorious moments, we were back, Naomi and Emily. I stopped teasing and slid my other hand down her stomach, feeling her thighs part wide as I searched for her there. She was hot and slick between her legs. My fingers entered her easily and I began to slide and circle the way I knew she liked it. But that was the problem. I knew exactly how to arouse, and satisfy her. But now, so did other women, a lot of other women. I didn't stop what I was doing. My fingers continued to tease and excite her. But the part of my brain which by this time was normally forgetting everything but the glory of Emily Fitch coming apart, was thinking "She cheated...she cheated...she _cheated_"

Her orgasm was wild and noisy. Obviously I wasn't the only one who had been abstaining lately. Her thrashing legs and pumping hips splashed gouts of water over the side of the bath, but I watched her come with strange detachment. The excitement I had felt, slipping into the bath with a naked Emily, was gone, replaced with the sick realisation that other women had watched her come like this. Some of them within feet of where we were laying. My desire vanished and with it my hope for this to mean something other than raw sex. When she had stopped crying out my name and squeezing my fingers with her cunt, I detached myself slowly and stood up, water cascading down my naked body.

She knew then.

I saw her eyes, so recently filled with passion and need, in the reflection of those pretty mirror tiles, change to fear and realisation. I stood there naked, looking down at her. I don't even know what my expression looked like. But she knew. She knew what was going through my mind, and I think I killed something inside her that night.

I ran then, from the bathroom, from Emily, from my own weakness and pain. I dried myself alone in my bedroom, trying not to think at all. I failed. I heard her emptying the bath, her hopeless, broken sobs filling my ears and my mind with unwanted thoughts and regrets. I had to get out of there. I dressed quickly in a skirt and hoodie top, and without even looking at her as she stood in the doorway, crying silently, I let myself out. It was almost 10.30pm, but I needed a drink, and I needed something to fill my head with something other than Emilys face and tears.

I found both at The Kings Head, just along the street. Although it was technically nearly closing time, I also knew that the landlords daughter Jade had a bit of a thing for me. We had flirted briefly and non committally over the past few weeks, when I had been drowning my sorrows more than usual. She was shorter than me, with a slim body and big, usually well on show, tits. Her hair was jet black and down to her shoulders. Her eyes matched her name exactly. They were a striking icy green colour.

A few whispered words across the bar, half an hour nursing vodka after double vodka, and the inevitable struggle to get the last drunk out, and we were alone. She looked at the empty glasses, the crisp packets and soggy beer mats, and then at me.

"Upstairs?" she said, flicking her dark hair away from her cheek and using those laser eyes to ask a million questions.

"I need something" I said, blatantly checking her out.

"Just as well my Dad is at the Victuallers Ball then" she smirked, watching my eyes caress those spectacular tits as pervily as any of her male customers. I needed her hands on me, her mouth on me. I needed to forget Emily and just...be for a night...

XXX

Next morning I stumbled out of the side door, blinking at the harsh daylight. Jade had been a useful distraction. She didn't ask anything from me. We weren't lovers...not in the Emily and me sense... we shagged, or should I say she shagged me. I couldn't bring myself to reciprocate after she had expertly tongued me to a satisfying orgasm. Not so soon after doing that to Emily. She shrugged and asked if I minded if she took care of herself, seeing as how I had "over excited her". How could I say no?. I watched her bring herself off with the sort of detachment I had watched Emily come not more than 2 hours before. She was very pretty, very sensual and anyone else, at any other time would probably have dived right in. But I couldn't. I used her, pure and simple. And I felt like shit about it.

When I got back to the flat, I half expected Emily to be gone for good. I was slightly surprised to see her bed made and her clothes still in the wardrobe. I showered quickly and got dressed for work, Emily had already left for the market presumably.

I ghost walked through the day, finding little reasons not to leave when 5pm came, but eventually I had to go. Stepping through the apartment door, I could smell Chilli. My favourite...and I nearly left again. Walking into the kitchen, I saw Emily at the stove, stirring the mince and staring out of the window.

"Hi" I said, dropping my handbag onto the table and looking round the room as if I expected there to be something different about my home. But nothing was. She never mentioned my frantic escape into the night, and I didn't confess what had happened after it. It just stayed between us, festering like some newly dead corpse...waiting for someone to dispose of it. I guess we both knew it would have to be dealt with eventually, but for the time being, we were obviously both happy to let it lay there undisturbed.

Another week went by. I didn't wash Emily's hair again, and she continued to sleep in the spare room.

Then it was Friday, and normally I went out with a couple of girls from work, Emma and Sophie, to a local pub, then a club after. Emma was bi, but with a boyfriend at the moment, Sophie was straight, but good company and we had fun usually. They knew I was gay, and had been through a messy break up, so we stuck to safer subjects, and that was fine by me. I was getting ready to go, just improving the normal shit job I do with eye liner, when Emily stuck her head around the door. That in itself was a surprise, she normally avoided me when she knew I was going out.

"Can I ask you a favour" she said quietly

"Sure" I said, squinting at myself in the mirror, whilst trying to see her at the same time.

"Could I... tag along tonight...just for a couple of drinks?" she said, and all my hard work getting a parallel line failed miserably as I jerked my hand in surprise. I rubbed the wayward black stripe off my skin absently.

"What, out with _me_?" I said stupidly.

I saw her shoulders sag as she saw my expression in the mirror, and it stabbed me like a stiletto. Why not, I thought...

"OK" I said simply "I'm leaving in 15?"

Her mouth opened in surprise and then she smiled happily at me.

"T...Thanks" she stuttered "I won't be a pain...I'll just have a couple of ciders, and then let you go on to a club...I won't be in the way I promise..I'll..."

I stopped her aimless rambling with a hard look.

"Emily" I said flatly " I said yes, OK? You need to get ready, huh?...I've got a cab booked for 8"

She disappeared, still with that small, happy smile on her face.

"Shit" I said as soon as she had gone into her own bedroom. Me plus Emily plus my nosy friends was gonna be awkward, to say the least...

XXX

Two hours later, it didn't seem a bad idea at all. Sophie probed a bit, but settled for the 'flatmate' lie. Emma was harder to convince, especially as Emily was being so pathetically grateful to be out with me. Emma shot me a look that said "I fucking _know_ you two have history, Campbell" But I blanked her, and eventually she gave up. So it wasn't even Emily's fault that it went belly up. Several shots and a line of some anonymous powder that Sophie's ex had given her as a parting gift before fucking off with a Ryanair stewardess, went a long way to reducing my inhibitions, and common sense to a gibbering wreck.

So after a couple more drinks (Emily stayed on the cider, as promised, and refused point blank to inhale any chemicals) I blearily agreed to her going with us to 'Volcano' the new club down by the docks. Bad move..

As soon as we got there, I knew it was a big fucking mistake. The place was crawling with spray tans and blinding smiles. It was a wags paradise. Exactly the sort of place I avoided like the plague. Fake smiles, fake tits and fake friendship. I could live a thousand years and never go in again. The look on Emily's face as we got there should have made me turn round and leave on the spot, but by that time Emma and Sophie were already past the doormen and swagging their first drinks from a couple of chancers.

Emily and I found a small unoccupied booth at the other side of the heaving mosh pit, and sat in not exactly comfortable silence (not that you could hear much with the banging techno beat filling the place). After a few minutes, a 'waitress' spotted us and came over. Sophie and Emma were still giggling and making cow eyes at the two likely lads, so I knew it would be down to me to get the drinks in. Bitches...I thought.

"Two straight double vodka's" I said, not even looking up as the girl, who was dressed in a totally fucking ridiculous cowboy outfit comprising a sequinned waistcoat and a skirt smaller than my belt, complete with Stetson and white boots, stood there.

I could actually feel the tension in the air as the girl stood there grinning at us. Well, not us. At Emily.

"Emily" she shouted over the bass "I thought you had emigrated""

I looked over at Emily, who was blushing furiously, even in the half light of the booth, and looking everywhere but back at the girl.

"Don't tell me you don't remember me hun..." the waitress said snidely "Optio's Bar...after hours drinks...you and me, shagging for a fucking _hour_ in the toilets...God, the things you do with that tongue...fucking drove me crazy. _Please_ say this isn't your girlfriend?"

She finally looked down at me as Emily stayed silent, Her face all plastic smile and over white teeth

""Emily and me are _old_ friends...aren't we babe" she finished, turning away to get our drinks.

I sat in stunned silence for a few seconds...my hazy, alcoholic brain trying to deal with what I'd just heard.

"Naomi" Emily said, trying to grip my sleeve as I sat there, head down, playing with the hem of my skirt like a fucking village idiot. "I'm so sorry..."

I jumped up and stared at her as if she was the lowest fucking form of life on the planet. My contempt and hatred must have scared her, because she shrank back. Fuck's sake, did she think I'd actually hit her?

"Fuck sorry...and fuck _you_ Emily" I hissed "This is what it's going to be like now, isn't it? Every time we go out, another random pops up with stories about your 'talented tongue" I can't stand it..I _can't_..." I finished, my voice going as the first sob of what would no doubt be a whole night of crying bubbled up in my throat.

She looked at me with eyes brimming with tears. Not saying anything, just looking at me hopelessly and gripping the table as if she would drown without it.

"I can't do this any more Emily" I said brutally "This is so fucking _over_"

I span on my heel and walked quickly from the club, seeing but not noticing the curious stares around me. Once again I was running. But this time no quick fix between the legs of a barmaid would sort me.

**OK, thats the last but one chapter guys. One more to go. I'll have to go some to fix this huh?**

**Reviews and criticism welcome. Enough angst? I think maybe you're right...but its going to take something _dramatic_ to mend all that agony, don't you think? Next chapter up at the weekend, real life permitting. And another chapter on 'Long Road' which is well overdue...**


	13. Chapter 13

**So...thanks so much for the reviews, you lovely people. I'm gonna dive right in to this chapter, because the angst level has reached new heights and my own stomach is clenched at the state I left them in last time. I have never actually been in a situation where one of my cheating partner's ex's charmingly relates one of their sexual adventures to my stunned ears. But I have an imagination, as you may have noticed...and I think I might just go slightly mad. God knows how one half of the epic romance Naomily will take it...**

Naomi

I got home fifteen minutes later, jumping out of the cab and thumbing through my messages, blinking away more tears. Tears which had prompted the driver to stop the car and ask if I wanted to go somewhere else rather than home. What the fuck he meant by that, I have no idea. Perhaps he was a Good Samaritan, but I think I needed the actual Samaritans, not some half arsed advice from a cabbie. I shook my head, and he carried on taking me to my apartment.

Five messages from Emily, all deleted without looking at them. Two from my friends, dealt with similarly. I was in no mood for post mortems, or fake sympathy. This was too fucking big for me to deal with, so I did what I always do. I ran.

Not straight away. I took the time to pack a suitcase, go online and pay 3 months rent on the flat and book a one way ticket on 'LyingAir'. (I always called RyanAir that, habit of a lifetime...have you _seen_ the fucking list of extras they charge for?) Looking round the place, I sobbed quietly as the pictures of me and Ems stared back at me. Who _were_ those people, I thought. Happy faces, simpler times. One with me, Effy and Emily, sitting on a wall at some beach last summer. No sign of the nightmares to come. I remember the old boy we got to take it. Its amazing the camera shake didn't destroy the shot. I suppose passionately kissing Emily and then Effy in front of him made his reactions worse, but he managed to squeeze off a couple of shots before hobbling off, his geriatric dick harder than his walking stick.

I left a note stuck to the kitchen table with sellotape.

"_Gone away for a while. Please don't call or try to contact me Emily. The rent is paid for the next 3 months. You can stay, or go. Up to you. I just can't be here any more Naomi"_

I know it was cold and hard, but everything's fucking hard nowadays, isn't it?. I knew that she would probably break into little pieces, finding me gone, and part of me felt like shit about that. But I couldn't just be here, with her. Nothing was right about 'us' any more. I didn't trust her, didn't even like her very much right now, to be honest. But I loved her, I was _in_ love with her, and that just made it twice as bad. Being together in this familiar flat, with our things around us, but with the most precious thing...our love... broken and shattered. I had no idea if that would ever change. I needed distance, even if my leaving would drive her insane. So I left. Putting £100 on the worktop, because I knew she would be skint after tonight, I closed the door behind me, and closed off my life with Emily Fitch, maybe for ever.

I stood in Bristol Airport five hours later, waiting impatiently for the flight. The usual cattle class trip awaited me. But it was the first flight I could get, 6 am. I'd phoned my mum from the cab rank, while waiting for a taxi. She was surprised, but not shocked to get the call, Although I had spared her most of the graphic details of Emily's betrayal, she knew enough not to ask too many questions

"Get a flight over tomorrow, daughter of mine" she said simply "I'll get Kieran to drive to the airport to meet you, if you text me the arrival time. The spare room is already made up"

I tapped my foot impatiently as the normal surge of people greeted the announcement that the flight was boarding. I was in no rush. Fucking sheep, all of them. They only sold enough seats to fill the plane up, what was the fucking rush. Not as if they're gonna take off with someone hanging off the air bridge, is it?

I boarded last, noting with grim satisfaction that the plane wasn't even half full. Fucking morons, I thought. I walked down the plane to the very end, remembering my mums stupid remark about always sitting at the back as "They don't very often reverse into mountains" and found a vacant block of seats. I sat at the window, and stared blankly at the growing light outside. A few minutes later, the seat belt signs went on and a bored crew member did the dance of the seven safety checks. I carried on looking out of the window as she showed us how to inflate a lifebelt. Maybe she had something in the flight book about resurrecting a failed relationship, I thought bitterly.

The flight was uneventful, apart from being hit on by an attractive, but over made up stewardess. I didn't know what she could have found sexy about me. Red rimmed eyes, unwashed hair, blue jeans, white sweatshirt and grey hoodie. I wasn't exactly dressed to kill. Maybe it was the boredom. With everyone anxious to get to Ireland, they didn't sell many drinks or merchandise, let alone any of those laughable RyanAir lottery tickets they try to foist on you every twenty minutes. No, I guess it was pure boredom. She sat on the edge of the aisle seat, pretty in a dark and elfin way and came on to me quite subtly. Maybe in another life, I thought. I told her I had just gone through a messy break up, and she smiled sympathetically. Bit like the cab driver last night, but I wasn't in the mood. I took her number anyway. How could it hurt? She was from Dublin, and told me when I felt better about life in general, to give her a call, so she could give me the grand tour. To be honest, it was the last thing on my mind, either getting with another woman or going clubbing in Grafton Street, but I nodded weakly, and eventually she left to get ready for landing.

XXX

Dublin's nice. My mum and Kieran came over after his brother died, leaving him a sizeable property portfolio. Even after the financial crash, Kieran was left with a few hundred thousand quid, plus a couple of seaside houses. They moved in to one on Strand Road, facing the Irish Sea. That was where I was going. I walked down the steps, feeling the chill on the air and shivering a bit. I waited for an age in baggage reclaim, but eventually got my bag. Stepping through the terminal building, I was soon outside. No mistaking Kieran's car. With over half a million in the bank and two substantial properties in one of the most expensive areas of the capital, he still managed to get about in a battered grey Astra which a sales rep would turn their noses up at.

"Fucking hell Kieran" I said as he finished hugging me and chucking my bag into the hatch "You didn't need to send the stretch limo...I would have been happy with a cheap and nasty old runabout"

"Fuck off Nomi" he grinned disarmingly "Property is theft, right?" Throwing one one of my old student lines right back at me.

I laughed for what seemed to be the first time in years. All at once, I knew I had done the right thing. Well, for me, anyway. I had tried very hard this past few hours to ignore that persistent little internal voice which was nagging me about the state I had left Emily in. OK, I had phoned Katie this morning and told her what had happened. But Katie was to diplomacy what George W Bush is to rational debate, so that wouldn't be a lot of help to Emily. Katie and tough love sort of suit each other, she doesn't _do_ any other kind. I'm sure her inbuilt sibling affection wouldn't abandon Emily to despair, but I doubted she would be much of a sympathetic listener either.

Kieran chattered inconsequentially about fuck all on the journey, but the closed windows and thick tobacco fug I was breathing in, together with the emotions and exhaustion of the past 24 hours caught up with me eventually. I don't know if he even noticed when I fell asleep, but when we got to Mum's, he was still talking. I shook myself and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. My mum was obviously waiting for us, and as the car squealed to a halt (Kieran doesn't do car servicing, he thinks the tooth fairy does it when he's asleep) she rushed out of the front door, squealing embarrassingly at me as I got out.

"Naomi" she bellowed, probably causing several cats to leap into the air "Come in...come in!"

As I'd never planned to become a pavement artist and squat outside for the duration, it was a pretty unnecessary request, but I just rolled my eyes, which made her laugh even louder, and let her usher me in.

XXX

Four weeks later I was settling in quite nicely. Mum had got me delivering leaflets with her to 'get you out of the house, and out of that foul mood you're in" and to be honest I was quite enjoying the fresh air and the friendliness of the Irish people. Bristol, like London, is a bit soulless, with everyone rushing about without a care for anyone or anything. I think maybe the centre of Dublin was like it too, but this little suburb was much nicer. People stopped to chat at any chance they got, and you ended up going along with it, rather than tutting and moving past, as you would have at home.

I got plenty of local interest, of course. The new girl in the street, but it died off as quickly as it began. There was always something new to gossip about.

We were only a bus ride from the City centre, so I had been in a few times. Temple Bar was an obvious attraction. Well, it would have been if I wasn't still grieving for my lost love. Effy had phoned me from Australia, where she was still loved up with Jenny. Katie had called a few times, usually to bitch about how lumpy my double bed was, and how little I had left in the fridge. I found out that she had pretty much moved with with Emily once I left. Emily had been broken and withdrawn since then, and my heart sank, even as Katie tried to gloss over the worst of it. I knew how she felt, but we needed...well, _I_ needed this space and time. I knew if we'd stayed together, it would have festered and died of its own accord.

Another month went by, and I started to go out more. I had got a part time job working in a local bar, evenings, and I liked it. The customers were mostly old and male, but that suited me. No threats to my self imposed celibacy. I was determined not to fall into the '_Jade_' trap and just seek out a pair of welcoming arms and friendly smile. So I worked the late shift, walked the 10 minutes home after and slept till 11 the next morning. Late breakfast/lunch with my mum, and then I might go shopping around O'Connell Street. I visited the Guinness Storehouse (Kieran was right, it _does_ taste different to the stuff they serve up in Bristol) Kilmainham Gaol, where the Easter uprising men were held and later executed by the British in 1916, and St Patrick's Cathedral. I bought a book of stamps in the General Post Office on O'Connell Street, which still has the bullet holes in the walls from the failed revolution. I loved it. Dublin is full of living history. I had my picture taken by mum, leaning on the spire (a steel pointed tower 360 feet high right bang in the middle of the city. It was put up partly to replace the statue of Nelson which had its arse blown up by the IRA in 1966), and we went to a Gaelic football match, which apart from being totally incomprehensible to a Brit, was also brutal and beautiful all at once. In short, I let myself become absorbed by the city and culture, and tried to forget the heartache that drove me here. I was settling in to my life in Ireland.

XXX

Two months later I met Izzy.

She was small, fair haired and as full of life as only a Dubliner can be. She talked non stop, and had so much energy, I swear the Energiser Bunny comes to her for motivational advice. She worked for the brewery, and normally I wouldn't have met her, because the reps make personal visits in the mornings, and I worked the late shift. But as it was a Monday, and I hadn't worked on Sunday, Sean, the landlord, asked me if I would cover for him while he went to a licensee meeting in town. So I was behind the bar, on my own, as it was only 12 o clock, when she came in. She was about a year or so older than me, and dressed in a smart blue jacket and skirt with a white top on underneath. I got the gaydar bleep immediately. The smile, the hello, and the subtle checking out. It was universal. London, Bristol, Dublin. No difference. I smiled back and we chatted about fuck all. I could feel her eyes on my arse when I bent over to get her an orange juice from under the chiller, and took my time straightening up. I caught her looking, but to be fair, she didn't even blush. Just fixed me with those grey eyes and smiled knowingly. Fuck it, it had been months since anyone looked at me that way.

"Anything else I can get you?" I said unsubtly "Something to eat, perhaps?"

We both smirked at that awkward suggestive comment.

"Not right now" she said in a lazy Dublin drawl "But let me take you out tonight, and I'm sure I can find something on the menu we both like"

Her eyebrow arched as she said that, and our laughter was unforced and easy. So much easier than thinking about Emily and all the shit I left behind. I gave her my mobile number and we talked some more. She said she came from the north side of the city and had lived here all her life. I gave her a potted version of my past, leaving out the more painful details of life with Emily, and she made all the right noises about it. Sympathetic, but abstract, like a stranger being told about a natural disaster. Detached.

I went home that afternoon with a spring in my step and for a minute or two, forgot about the reason I had fled my home and my life in England. I had a date...

XXX

Two weeks later, we were an item. Not a serious, joined for life type item, but an item nevertheless. We dated, we kissed (a lot) and we talked (well Izzy, short for Isabel, talked a lot). I mostly listened and laughed at her endless anecdotes and jokes. She was good for me. Not asteroid crashing, earth shattering, _Emily_ type good, but gentle, unhurried and subtle. I wasn't falling for her, not really. Too soon for anything like that, but she made me laugh and most importantly she didn't make me sad. For now, that was enough. Despite our initial sexy repartee, we hadn't actually _done_ the dirty deed yet, but it was in the fucking post...thats for sure. She wanted me, and the heated kissing after dates and the groping and rubbing we did was leading to... it. I just needed time to allow myself to heal and for it not to feel like betrayal when I felt her hands on me.

So when the doorbell rang on the next Sunday night, I rushed down the stairs, in a cloud of borrowed Chanel and wearing my best little black dress and black flats. We were going into town for a night in Temple Bar, and for the first time in an age, I was actually looking forward to some clubbing...and maybe more. I opened the door...and froze.

"E...Emily?" I said stupidly

"HI Naomi" she said quietly. "Have I come at a bad time...I can..." she gestured to the cab waiting at the kerbside.

"N...No" I said, still trying to get my heart under control and my breathing regular. She looked fucking stunning. Her hair was short, almost elfin. A total change to the normal long lustrous Fitch locks. Her eyes were still those deep pools of brown, liquid and expressive, and I was immediately lost in them, my treacherous brain going into Emily-swoon automatically. She was wearing a pair of black jeggings with patent ankle boots and a black bikers jacket over a really tight light blue tee. I tried fucking hard, but the habits of years are hard to shake, Checking out Emily's body is hard wired into me.

"Come in..." I stood aside and let her pass me. I caught a faint whiff of strawberries and vanilla. Still the same Emily smell then, my brain taunted me.

I turned to follow her just as another cab pulled up outside.

"Shit" I said in a wobbly voice, and Emily turned back to look at me quizzically. Luckily my mum and Kieran were at a meeting tonight. That was the only bit of good luck I was getting. Having a family meeting with my ex and new girlfriend on the doorstep would give this part of Dublin a whole week of gossip.

The cab door opened and Izzy got out, looking equally stunning in a short electric blue cocktail dress. I felt a bit like those actors in romcoms, with an ex in every room , frantically looking around for a trapdoor to swallow me up. I looked back and forth between Emily and Izzy stupidly until someone else had the sense to speak. It was Izzy.

"Hi Naomi" she said in a tight, controlled voice "I take it this is Emily?"

I nodded, while Emily regarded us with calm, steady eyes.

"Maybe I'd better go on to the pub first. When you've had your...chat...with Emily...maybe you can give me a call... and let me know if we're still going out... I sort of have _plans_ for you...?" Staking a claim much?

I nodded again. Rational thought had left me for the moment. The whole 'mouth open and drooling' village idiot look was really kicking in now.

Izzy got back into the cab, with one last look at my shocked face and I saw it pull away from the kerb sharply. I guess the cab driver wasn't hanging round for fireworks either.

I turned back to Emily, who was still standing in the hall, looking at me gravely.

"She's nice" she said simply "Very pretty"

"I know that" I said, sharper than intended "She's called Izzy"

"Oh?..Thats nice.." Emily said, and arched her eyebrow. She didn't need words to make me feel any more shit than I already did.

We walked into the kitchen and I did the usual stupid routine of offering coffee, something Emily always refused anyway. She shook her head and sat at one of the high backed chairs. I drew the one opposite back and sat down, smoothing the short dress over my bare legs. I looked up just as she looked away from staring at my bare thighs.

"What do you _want_ Emily?" I said flatly "I thought I made it clear I needed space and time away from there...away from you?"

"It's been well over three months Naomi" she said, her eyes holding mine. "I thought both our lives had been on hold long enough, so I came over to talk to you. But it seems you've moved on already?"

My anger bubbled up immediately, how dare she lecture me about moving on?

"I seem to remember someone else moving on quite quickly Emily" I spat "Or should I say moving _under_...anything with a pulse"

She blinked at my venom and then closed her eyes for a second, lowering her head.

"I deserve that. I'm sorry Naomi" she said in a whisper "I didn't come here to trade insults with you. I behaved despicably towards you. You didn't deserve it then, and you don't deserve it now. I have no right to be jealous, but... I am, I can't help it"

She drew in a shuddering breath and looked at me, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I still love you Naomi" she said in a low voice "I always have, even when I was hurting you. I don't have any excuses. I thought you had abandoned me, and I wanted to lash out at everyone and everything. I don't have any rights..." she stifled a small sob "But I'm asking you...no I'm _begging_ you...for one last chance"

I stared at her as her shoulders began to shake. Half of me wanted to jump up and just hold her, like I always had when she was upset, the other half wanted to run from the room and never see her again.

"I have a new _life_ here Emily" I said, my own voice cracking "It's not fair of you to come here and expect me to just drop everything and forgive you. I have new friends, a job..." I trailed off. I had no idea what else to say. Everything I was saying was true, but it was also a huge lie. Everything I had here was a substitute. A substitute for what I had left behind. I knew there would never be another Emily in my life. A love that big, that overpowering and that intense was a one off, lifetime event. I liked Izzy, I might even grow to love her in time. But no one would ever be able to replace Emily in my heart. I knew it, and she knew it. But could I ever trust her again. I didn't think so...I _really_ didn't. But what did I really want? Seeing her like this, beautiful, hurt and alone...every bit of my heart wanted to make it right with her. We had both suffered, each in different ways, but I understood that as always, Emily had done the brave thing. She'd come here to confront the problem. I always reacted the same, I ran away from it. It was like we were two halves of the same personality. Her bravery against my cowardice, my stubbornness against her calm acceptance. Together we were complete, but could it ever be the same again?

I took a long breath and looked at her, silently crying. She still looked beautiful, but I couldn't just erase the past. It was there, haunting us both. Whatever happened, I couldn't make that decision here, now.

"Look" I said, my voice breaking "I can't do this now Emily. Its too much. I need more time"

She interrupted me.

"There isn't any more time" she said, taking out a small white handkerchief and wiping her eyes "If you don't want me any more, I can't go on in limbo. The lease on the flat is up. I don't want to be there any more now in any case, not with you gone. Its not our home...its just where I sleep at nights...or try to"

She finished wiping her face and stared at me, her eyes wide and soft.

"Katie has a job...she wants me to move with her, when she goes. But I've told her I needed to talk to you first...to see if we..."

"That's OK" I gabbled quickly, trying as always to clutch at fucking straws "You can go back, move in with Katie, and when I can get my head together, I'll come over and we'll talk...I mean properly talk" I looked down at my watch, noticing we had been here for over half an hour, Izzy would be getting more and more anxious in the pub on her own.

Emily shook her head sadly, noticing of course my lame attempt to read my watch-face.

"I'm obviously keeping you Naomi. I'm sorry. I have an open ended ticket, so I'll go now. I think there's a late flight back tonight. Thanks for talking to me..." she stood up abruptly and started for the door.

I followed her to the door, head still spinning.

"I will come over to talk to you Emily" I said "It's just difficult now...you know?"

"Yeah" she said quietly "It's always difficult with us, isn't it Naoms?"

She stood at the door as I held it open and looked up at me, the way she had looked up at me always, her eyes bright with tears this time, but still beautiful, still Emily

"Can I kiss you goodbye" she said and her lip trembled

"It's not goodbye" I said "I _will_ see you soon...I promise"

She leaned into me and gently held my shoulders in her cool hands. They felt like fire on my skin even so. Her soft lips brushed mine, then pressed harder. I moaned quietly as the old sensations came back to me. Her mouth moved on mine and I slid my hands round her slight shoulders, kissing her properly. Years of endless kissing with Emily made it all so familiar, so seductive. We kissed for much longer than friends saying farewell should. The language our lips spoke was much more eloquent than our words earlier. All the want and need bottled up inside me bubbled to the surface. I gripped her body harder and this time she moaned into my mouth.

I think left to me, we would have ended up in the bedroom for sure, but it was Emily who broke away. Her eyes were on fire, wild, and her breath came in great shuddering gulps. I was no better. Apart we were just two women standing in a doorway, together there was something so special, so intense, we set the air around us alight.

We stared at each other for a long moment. I reached up and touched my lips, still tingling from the kiss. I was fucked, I knew that. Half an hour with her in the same room and I was like a moth to a flame, doomed to circle and be singed with the heat of her existence. Would I never be able to control myself around her? I guess not.

"Well.." she said slowly "enjoy your night Naomi...with Izzy" Her eyes got big again as she said the name.

"Yeah..." I said "Have a safe flight"

Then she was gone, just the clip of her heels on the pavement as she walked towards the taxi rank in the next street.

I didn't go out with Izzy that night. It didn't seem right after what had just happened. I didn't go back to the mainland either. I phoned Katie instead. She answered after a single ring, so I guessed she was waiting for the call.

"Naomi?" she said in that clipped way she always answered calls from mere mortals.

"Hi" I said "Why didn't you warn me she was coming Katie"

"Not my business to sort your lezzer shit out for the rest of your life babes" she snarked "Bad enough I have to have my little sister hanging on my coat when I leave here. I take it there was no meeting of minds then?"

"I need more time Katie" I said weakly "It's too soon"

"No" she said shortly "It's too late, you fucking idiot. You had your chance to work it out, but as per fucking usual, you both probably spent more time looking at your hands and making out than actually talking, yeah?"

Nodding doesn't work on telephones, but the snort from the other end meant Katie understood alright.

"Oh well..." she said "Lovely as it is to get a flash bulletin from the 'Muff Munchers Gazette' I have to pack. We fly tomorrow morning. Its fucking freezing in New Zealand this time of year, so I need a whole new wardrobe. Enjoy your life Naomi"

The phone clicked and I stood there looking at it stupidly. New Zealand...what the actual fuck?

It _is_ possible to get from Dublin South Side to the airport in a shorter time, but I think Jenson Button is currently busy. Driving Kieran's fucking rust bucket is not quite the same, but the rev counter hit levels it probably hadn't seen since the sales rep who owned it first was late for an appointment.

I parked it on yellow lines, so I knew it would be towed when I got back, The parking Gestapo are as implacable in Dublin as they are in London. I couldn't care less. I just kept saying to myself, New Zealand...New fucking _Zealand?_, as I hunted for the LyingAir departure gate...

**And that's the end of that. Cliff hanger moi? **

**An epilogue goes up Saturday, which gives you the conclusion. Does she get there on time? Do they live happily ever after? What do you think?**

**Reviews make me happy...just saying!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Well...here we are. At the epilogue stage. But wait... I've actually got good news as well as bad news. The bad is, of course, that this story ends here. At Dublin airport. The good? Well you'll have to scroll down, or preferably _read_ down (hint hint) until you get to the bit in bold at the bottom of this, when I thank all my lovely reviewers and followers for putting up with my ramblings for almost 50,000 words. Is this the end for Emily and Naomi? Well no. That's something we, the fans, won't let die. Call it stubbornness, call it ego, call it whatever you like. The fact is I won't be stopping my scribbling any time soon. And _far_ better writers than me will be carrying on too. That's why whatever Jess Brittain (who I hope disappears into the obscurity her talent deserves) wants to believe. I've read some bad fanfic's on here, I've read some good fanfic's on here, and I've read some _outstanding_ fanfic's on here (take a bow LuvActually, Hyperfitched, Faithsky and several others) But I've never watched anything as badly researched, poorly scripted and downright fucking _lazy_ as 'Skins Fire'. My older sister, Nancy, who tragically died in March, would have been having a whip round for an assassin to take out the lot of them, if she'd seen that pile of dog poo in July. She _loved_ Skins, and Naomily in particular, like no other form of fiction. She would have been heartbroken at the idle, contemptuous and amateurish way they treated our girls(including Effy). So fuck em, I say. Lets write more Naomily, _every_ week. **

**Right. Rant over. I think no one is in any doubt as to how I feel about JB & Co, are they? I feel like that actress at the Oscars, who fanned herself and said "Gather" a lot. **

**On with the show then...**

Naomi

I got to the check in, to find that there was no rush. The Ryanair flight to Bristol was delayed for an hour, quelle surprise. I started systematically combing the airport, looking for a flash of newly cut dark hair and a black leather jacket. Nothing. I went round again, looking into the fast food outlets and the souvenir shops, although, if Emily was feeling anything like I was, food and tacky china ornaments were definitely not a must have tonight. Finally, I realised that there was only one place I would have been in her situation. The bar. Unfortunately, this being Ireland, there were quite a few places to drown your sorrows. I finally tracked her down to Alcock and Browns fake Irish themed bar, perched on a stool with full a pint of Guinness parked in front of her. Judging by the head on it, she's been staring at it for a while now. It was flat as a pancake.

"Hi" I said, taking the stool beside her. Her head shot round as if she'd been goosed by a sailor.

"**Naomi**?" she choked

"New fucking _Zealand_?" I said by way of a response. She looked away and then back at me before answering. Her mobile phone sat on the counter in front of her, Katie's name with the number 6 beside it. I guessed the toxic twin had been on...several times... this evening already.

"Seemed like a plan" she said in a quiet voice. "Other side of the world and all that. You asked for time and space...remember?"

"I asked for a _bit_ of time, and _some_ space Emily" I said, with a catch in my voice at the end "Not a fucking polar expedition, and not for months"

"Bit longer than that actually she said, " I'm going on a 6 month visa to start with, but if Katie gets confirmed in her job after probation, I'll probably stay on with her. She's got a place with Australian Vogue magazine, and their Auckland branch have a place in New Zealand ready and waiting for her. I'm just the extra baggage, as per usual"

"So that's that then?" I said bitterly "You come over here unannounced, ask me to take you back, then when I ask for more time, fuck off to the the other side of the world with your sister permanently. When _exactly_ were you gonna tell me you'd left for good?"

"I wasn't" she said shortly "When you said no to us trying again, Naomi, I knew it was pointless me going back to Bristol. I have no friends left there now. Katie and New Zealand is my _only_ option. My mums in prison, my Dads gone back to Birkenhead with James to live with his sister until the trial is over, and the love of my life is living in Dublin, getting on with living. Everyone's moving on but me"

I swallowed hard. Anger, fear and confusion crashed round my brain like a bunch of late night revellers coming home from a party. I looked up at the ceiling, with its fake Irish green shamrocks and old yellow smoke stains from before the smoking ban.

"Jesus, Emily" I said in a hushed voice "Whenever I think things are completely fucked. Like everything is completely and _utterly_ fucked, it goes and gets a million times worse"

"6 months ago, I was the happiest woman alive. I had a good job, a nice apartment, and the woman I was madly in love with since I first saw her in a cinema queue when we were teenagers, was about to make the whole thing complete and be my wife. You were my _world_ Emily. You still _are_ my world, believe that if nothing else"

I saw her shake her head sadly and stopped speaking.

"We were special, Naomi" she said in a hollow voice "So fucking special. But its past tense now, isn't it babe?...We _were_ special. My mother, who I hope rots in jail for ever, has actually achieved what she wanted to all along. Split us up completely. I felt the same as you, you know that don't you? I never loved anyone else. I probably never will love anyone else. But its... spoiled... now... just fucking... _ruined_" she dipped her head as her voice broke "You've lost your trust in me, and I can't get it back. Without that, what's the point?. I realised tonight that you actually don't like me very much any more, even if you still love me, and that broke my heart more than anything else"

I looked at her dumbly. What could I say that wouldn't contradict everything I'd said to her earlier tonight? I kept asking for more time, but time wasn't healing anything. She was right. Marking time, staying in our old places, doing the same old things, waiting for me to forgive her properly and her to forgive herself, wasn't working. It wasn't fair on her or me. With a realisation which made my stomach turn to ice, I understood it all now. It _was_ over.

I got up and swallowed the sobs that threatened to overwhelm me. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. Airports are all about goodbyes, yeah. But we deserved a better...a happier ending...didn't we? All the shit we'd been through, all the tears, all the pain...and it ends like _this?_ On a windy wet night at Dublin Airport with indifferent Polish waiters watching us play out the final melodrama of our love in some seedy bar.

She finally looked up at me, eyes shining with fresh tears. All I ever seemed to do now was make her cry. I hated her, I feared her, but now I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and make this all go away. But it wouldn't. Nothing would make this right. My trust had been shattered and the only way this was going to end was badly. I knew it as well as she did now.

"Emily...?" I said, but she stood and gripped my elbows in her hands, stopping me from collapsing into her.

"No Naomi" she said in a tight, controlled voice "It ends _now_. I don't want to be forgiven, because I can't even begin to forgive myself. I'll always love you, no matter where I end up. But I'm no good for you, no good for us. I need some time to heal too, and New Zealand will do as well as any other place for that. Go back to your new life. Go back to Izzy. Forget about me. Its better for us both"

I pulled free of her surprisingly strong grip and reversed our positions, this time I was holding her leather clad arms.

"Listen to me, Emily Fitch" I said brokenly "I **refuse** to make this a final goodbye. OK, I can't stop you going to the other side of the world, if that's what you need to do. But I'm asking you not to give up on us completely. Go to Auckland, live your life, meet new people, take new lovers. But what we had...what we _have_, is better and stronger than you think. Promise me you won't forget me?

She shook her head and the tears began to stream down her cheeks as she spoke.

"I'm not going to make you any promises, Naomi" she whispered "Because I'm bad at keeping them nowadays. Just know this. I've loved you more than I ever thought I could love someone. You saved me, you cherished me and you loved me back. I could never feel like this about anyone, ever again. ...Let me go now..."

She pulled free of my grasping hands

"Kiss me?" she said for the second time that night.

This kiss was different to the one earlier. Salty tears mixed on our cheeks. Her lips were soft, and trembled as I caressed them with mine. Our sobs mixed in the space between us. The barman, for once, used his discretion and walked to the other end of the bar as we stood there together, shaking with despair. When I finally pulled free of her grip, she turned in one motion, grabbing her phone in one hand and dipped down to pick up her flight bag. Her eyes gleamed with yet more tears as she looked back at me one last time.

"Goodbye my love" she whispered...and she was gone.

**OK, not the epilogue you wanted. But the news is...I have a sequel planned. Look out for '_Long White Cloud_' which some of the more perceptive of you will know is at least one English translation of the original Maori name for ….New Zealand!**

**So thanks for reading, and commenting. My other story will carry on, and I have another idea which I might begin writing shortly. A very smutty and twisted three chair choral arrangement featuring Naomi, Emily...and Cook!**

**I owe particular thanks to the following wonderful reviewers, who have kept me on my toes and thoroughly amused all through. They are, in no particular order, coz they're all great. VioletW, Marsupial1974, uhuhnaomily, garden-nomes, dubbs901, xMotherfuckerJones, originalnaomilyfan, , NowServingBrunch, laurenbird, and everyone else who occasionally contributed to my ego stroking. May the force be with you and may your batteries never die in mid stroke...as it were!.**

**Lizzie**


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